Broken Fire
by MerryLittleMess
Summary: The Reagans are devastated when a car crash kills a member of their family. After they receive a taunting picture of the accident and a mysterious note, the hunt is on. Will they find the perpetrator? And what shocking discovery will turn their world upside-down in the process?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This is an old story idea of mine. I thought I'd share it with you and see whether I should continue writing it. Please let me know what you think about it!

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters involved. All rights to CBS.

* * *

 **November 10** **th**

"Danny?"

"Yeah?"

"Um...", Jamie started, then thought the better of it. His brother had that annoyed look about him, the one that told Jamie nothing he said would be taken seriously. To Danny he was still a child, no matter how much he tried to prove himself, how much he achieved.

"Kid?"

"Never mind. Sorry." As he turned to leave, Jamie saw a dark shadow rounding the corner. His eyes narrowed and he quickened his pace, not bothering to say goodbye to Danny, who was staring at him in bewilderment.

"Jamie? What are you looking for?"

"Nothing. Really, it's fine. It can wait 'till Sunday." Although Jamie had reached the glass doors at the entrance to the office, there was no sight of his stalker. In fact, the hall was empty. Had he been imagining things? He tensed, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

"Come on, spill it. Why do you look like you've seen a ghost?" Danny had also gotten up, looking at the entrance and of course seeing nothing out of the ordinary. Jamie shrugged his brother's hand off his shoulder.

"It was nothing. I thought I saw Jackie", he answered, knowing Danny's partner was on vacation and the lie therefore easy to spot. Relieved, he noticed that Danny had lost interest now that there was no threat, instead muttering something like "Whatever" and going back to the open file on his desk. He didn't even look up when his younger brother left, which Jamie was thankful for.

He exited and ran to his car, hard rain pouring down on him all the while. If he'd taken the time to look around, he might have noticed a man standing in the parking lot for no apparent reason. Might have seen the person that got out his phone as soon as Jamie's car had left and called his boss. They had quite a peculiar conversation, or so it would have seemed.

"He's gone."

"Alone?"

"Yes, just like you predicted. He'll reach the spot in less than three minutes."

"Perfect!" While the man in the parking lot spoke with the emotionless voice reserved for business, his current employer was practically singing, awaiting a fatal mistake, shaking with glee. The man in the parking lot didn't bat an eye. He knew exactly what a risk he'd taken by accepting the job with the commissioner's kid, but the money was worth it. Speaking of money...

"When will I get the second half of my payment?"

"As soon as he's down."

"When will that be?" The man on the phone waited while cold drops of water slid down his neck beneath the jacket. His boss was doubtlessly checking one of his countless camera's, waiting for a planned disaster. A few seconds silence reigned in and the scout was just about to lose patience when a loud shot could be heard through the phone. Screeching tires and a sickening crunching sound followed, metal hitting something equally hard with a lot of force. Then breathless laughter rang out.

"It's done! He did it! You'll get the missing amount right now."

"Pleasure doing business with you", the man in the parking lot said, hung up and pulled his hat further down, wondering whether he'd just helped end a life but not really caring. In fact, the gunshot had been like music in his ears, especially the fact that it had been a single sound filled him with pride. It was his best friend at the trigger, after all. Bobby, the old gangster who never missed.

* * *

"Robert?"

"Just Bobby", the man lying in the dirt on a hill answered, suppressing a groan. His old legs wouldn't support him like they used to do, but his curiosity made him stand up from his position to get a good look at the trashed car. The wreck was clinging to a tree, the side dented strangely. From up above it almost looked like an accordion, Bobby thought, again congratulating himself on his awesome shot.

"Get down there and help", his boss ordered mercilessly, a bright smile plastered across his face. He was the type of person Bobby wouldn't have taken advice from, all feverish behavior and emotional outbursts. However, he'd been planning the attack on the guy in the car for a long time, had impeccable timing and a safe plan. The road was lonely enough to reduce any chance of witnesses to zero and the young man in the car had never seen his end coming. One shot, one faultless shot was all it had taken. Bobby hobbled down the steep road, watching while a limp body was dragged through the broken window.

"Is he dead?", he asked with interest, thinking he saw a lot of bright red blood. The figures had crouched above the man, so he was startled when they broke apart in unison, one of them holding a split lip and cursing rudely. Bobby laughed quietly, leaning against a tree trunk to watch the chaos unfold as the not-so-unconcious-now victim dealt out a few more punches before he was violently subdued. Amateurs, he thought with a wry grin, assuming a car crash would simply render a target immobile. The tough ones always fought, but it still took guts to try what the young man had, pretending and then striking out at his first chance. Pity it hadn't done the persistent son of a bitch any good.

"He dead now?", Bobby inquired, looking at the blood inside the car and on the forehead of the blond man. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, recognizing serious cuts and blood loss. Impressive that the target had even managed to get up with injuries like that.

"What a shame you died, you kind of reminded me of myself. Might have made a good apprentice", he murmured, stepping back and letting the idiots take care of the rest. Soon, the smell of gasoline wafted through the air, then flames flared up and the biting stench of smoldering plastic and rubber signaled the job was all but done. One of them would have to stay behind while the fire raged and boy was Bobby glad he hadn't drawn the short straw. Burning human flesh always made his stomach queasy.

* * *

He didn't know that the grumpy Russian that took the watch actually had an eventful evening, though. An hour after the others had left - most of the flames had died down and the sky was beginning to darken by then - a single car appeared at the base of the hill. Carefully, the man evaded detection, hiding in the darkness between the nearby trees.

"Come on, man. You don't want to be the one to find this mess", the Russian said, a look of sympathy on his face. His mother often told him "Isaac, your heart is too soft to be a mercenary", yet he was very successful and had never learned a different trade. The unlucky driver of the car saw the smoke and slowed down, halting and turning on the warning lights on his vehicle. It was a middle-aged man that exited, brown hair, not very tall but quite muscular. The way he moved towards the accident site showed some sort of professionalism. A firefighter, perhaps? A cop? Military?

"Nope. At least not on duty", the Russian observed as the guy abandoned all care and slid down into the ditch, getting close to the heat in the process. Was that guy crazy or something? Involuntarily, the Russian took a step forward, catching himself at the movement and pulling further back as curses were heard from the dent. He could only make out the words "goddamn body", "vacation", "weekend" and "Linda", which probably meant that the man had discovered the burned body in the front seat. It also proved the cop-theory to be true, because normally people freaked out a lot more. Smiling halfheartedly, the Russian leaned to the side to get a better look at the following actions the cop took, mildly satisfied that it wasn't a child or an old lady who'd found the car. Cops were far more in control, the Russian thought, only to be shocked when the brown haired man froze, one of his arms reaching for his phone.

"What are you doing?", the criminal asked silently as the cop's face lost all color as his lips were muttering something over and over. Too quiet to be heard where the Russian stood. Now his hands were shaking and the mobile phone dropped to the floor, but the cop didn't seem to care. His brows were furrowed, his jaw set so hard the watcher feared something might break.

"Move. Call the police. What's wrong with you?" His eyes followed the cop make uncertain, slow steps back towards the ditch and the last wisps of smoke. When the man stopped next to the plate on the back and began to wipe away the black grime, the Russian held his breath in anticipation. Still he ducked behind the treeline when a piercing scream echoed through the emptiness.

"Jamie! No! Jamie!" Wincing, the Russian turned around again and saw the utter shock on the cop's face. Tears, real tears were streaming down a face that should have been used to similar situations and suddenly the criminal understood. This wasn't just anybody's car for the cop, he'd known the target personally.

"Damn, sucks to be you tonight", he said gravely and watched the man fall to his knees on the dirty tarmac of the road. Another wordless scream was let loose, anger, sorrow and endless sadness combined in an emotion most people called loss.

"So that's what it looks like when a man is broken." The Russian averted his eyes and slowly retreated into the woods, granting the man some space to grieve in private. He didn't care whether his task had been to stay to the very end, sometimes a man had to do what a man had to do. Not that he cared much about honor or the cop in particular, yet he couldn't shake the peculiar feeling that the issue was far from over. It was the way the cop had acted, the uncontrolled rage in his second cry... the Russian shuddered. He did not want to be the one to be on the receiving end of that fury.


	2. Chapter 2

**November 22** **nd**

Danny stood at the base of the staircase, waiting for his sons to come down from their rooms. Finally he heard the light feet of Sean and Jack, then they appeared. Both were wearing suits today, their ties hanging loosely, waiting to be done by their father.

"Come here", Danny said, trying to keep his calm. His fingers were not shaking when he bound his son's ties and ruffled their hair lovingly. Jack stayed close to him for a few more minutes and Sean didn't really want to leave his side either. How clingy they'd become, since... since Jamie had died. Danny made himself complete his thoughts. Denial wouldn't make it any less true. He'd lost his younger siblings, except for Erin. His sister didn't blame him, but everybody had to know that it was his fault. His, only his fault, his mistake for not listening, his mistake to invite the boy over to the lake house for the weekend, his choice to send him on the road alone where a broken tire had ended his days. His shame.

"Danny? We need to go", Linda said, a hand reassuringly on his back. He gripped his wife tightly and together they got into the car and drove in silence. Sean was playing with the toy soldier his uncle had gotten him for Christmas while Jack stared through the window with empty eyes. What had he done? What had it done to his kids to loose their uncle? Would it ever be okay again? No, some things just did not heal. Grimly, he eyed the destruction he'd created. At church, he saw the assembled members of his family, his friends, colleagues and old companions. Everyone was wearing black or dark gray, even the children.

"Sorry for your loss. Jamie was a good boy", his old teacher said when Danny came to stand next to his father. Frank Reagan maintained the air of authority around him, although his knuckles were white from balling his fists too tightly. Henry, on the other hand, was openly and silently crying, as were Erin and Nikki. His niece had taken the news the worst, shutting down completely for days. A fortnight later she was nothing but a shadow of herself and barely said five words a day. Danny hugged her fiercely and said something meaningless and soothing, then the priest began his lecture. It was a nice speech about forgiveness, heaven and how the souls lived on, but Danny couldn't concentrate. All he could think about was the report from the forensics lab. He hadn't been supposed to read it, had had to pull a few strings to get the pieces of paper he'd never forget.

His brother's death had been ruled an accident. Something had broken his tire while he was driving at full speed, catapulting the car from the lane where it collided with a massive tree. The front window had been shattered, the side compressed and the fuel tank ripped open. A fire had broken out and if his brother had survived the initial crash, the flames had squashed all hope of survival. In the end the corpse had been burned so badly that they had to use dental records to identify him, but it was without a doubt Jamie. They had even found remains of his police badge and blood on the splinters. He was dead. Irretrievably, inevitably, inalterably dead.

"Jamie", Danny whispered, his eyes watering. He blinked rapidly, taking deep and calming breaths. It didn't really help, but he made it through the rest of the service without breaking down. Afterward, the family stood around the grave for a long time, until Jack was shuddering so much that Linda and Erin herded the boys inside. Henry, Frank and Nikki stayed longer, keeping him company in the pouring rain. Nikki held an umbrella above his head until she finally went inside to join the others. Then the water made its way down his cheeks, concealing the salty additions that were noe falling freely. The hands he'd clasped in front of his expensive coat shook, yet Danny did not move for a long time. His feet were glued to the ground, his mind repeating the words over and over in his head. Here lies Jamison Reagan. Son, Uncle and Brother. Danny didn't want to close his eyes, afraid his brother would come to haunt him, but he didn't want to keep looking at the gravestone either. Nevertheless, leaving was not an option, he had one last thing to say to his kid brother. Slowly, he reached out and touched the wet stone. Ice-cold, unmoving, dead. Not alive and full of energy like Jamie had been. Not like he should still be.

"I'm sorry. God, Jamie, I'm so sorry. I should have asked what was wrong that day. I should have made you tell me, should have kept you with me. I should have been looking out for you! Hell, it should have been me on the road, not you! Not you, never you." His voice broke at the last words and he sobbed. Just for a moment he let himself go, then his defenses popped back up and he gathered what was left of him and put it back together like a robot with a vital piece missing. By the time he reached his wife and kids, he had regained his composure. Sean crept onto his lap as soon as Danny sat down, seeking warmth and comfort. Of course Danny didn't mind, he closed his arms around his boy, drawing as much strength as he could and waited patiently for his youngest to say something.

"If there is a God and he loves us, then why does he keep doing this to our family? Have we done something wrong?", Sean wanted to know, his face pleading for an answer. Children weren't supposed to ask these things, Danny thought and tried his best to explain.

"No, of course not. None of this was your fault, kid. You hear me? Stop worrying about it", Danny said forcefully, waiting until Sean slowly nodded. Then he continued, struggling to find the right words.

"Everybody has to leave this world at some place, that's the natural order of things. And as hard as it is for the ones left behind, it is not meant as a punishment, nor a test. God took Uncle Jamie because … because he loved him. And he loves you too, Sean, don't doubt that. He gave us time with Jamie and lots of memories together. So when you think of him, don't be sad. Smile for every moment you two had together. Remember that time in the park when you tripped and accidentally threw the ice cream at him?" Danny sighed inwardly when Sean only smiled thinly at that.

"Yeah..."

"Or the time you made him join Nikki in the karaoke bar?"

"That was awful. And kind of funny."

"Or when you went to the library and he had to flirt shamelessly with the assistant so she would let you lend more books?"

"He complained all week about that, although she wasn't even that ugly!"

"Or when he taught you how to cheat at cards?" Now Sean grinned, moving a little more animatedly until he remembered what had brought on the conversation. Then the light in his eyes dimmed again.

"I think I get it now, Dad. Thanks."

"No problem. You can always talk to me about anything, okay? Never forget that, kid."

"Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"Is Uncle Jamie really gone?"

"Yes, but he's at a better place now, Sean. Believe me."

* * *

"A better place?", an unknown voice repeated in front of his monitor. He'd been watching the funeral intently and had even witnessed Danny's breakdown. At that moment, he'd smiled. The first time he'd seem the detective on his knees had been the moment he'd found the crashed car - filmed and recorded by seven cameras that showed every angle of the sweet sadness the Reagan had displayed.

"Trying to comfort your boys, are we, Danno?", he asked, shaking his head. Soon the Reagans would be in an even worse nightmare. He was getting impatient, tapping his fingers on the desk in front of his computers. Several monitors filled the space, some hung on the wall of the little room.

"Boring. They're healing. Even the girl", he said gloomily, wishing Nikki would throw more tantrums. They'd been interesting, as had been her inability to confide in her mother or her friends. But now the teenager stood arm in arm with Erin Reagan, Frank watching them from the doorway. Slowly, agonizingly, things were returning to normal.

"But not for long", the man said, grinning again. He opened the top shelf of his drawer and took out a photograph, which was exactly twelve days old. It was picturing the car crash, a close-up of an unconscious face lying on a steering wheel, blood and pieces of broken glass visible. Quite a pretty sight, actually. Without haste, the man turned the photograph around and wrote something on the backside, considered it for a moment and then added another sentence. Not entirely satisfied, he bit his lip, adjusted his glasses and thought for a while. Then the unpleasant smile returned to his mouth. Placing the photograph on the table, he tapped a combination on his keyboard, opening another live video stream.

"A better place indeed", he murmured as he turned on the light in the small cell without windows. The boy on the bed cringed and put his hands above his eyes, blinded after days of darkness. He hadn't been given a change of clothes, therefore one could still admire the dried blood on the thin gray shirt his victim was wearing. What an exhilarating sight! Immediately his mood lightened and his voice sounded pleased when he pushed the button for the microphone.

"Good evening, dear guest. How are we feeling?" To his delight, the fight had not left those blue eyes that were scowling directly at the camera and not bothering to answer.

"Would be boring otherwise", he murmured, pushed another button and nodded when he saw the disbelief on his captive's face as soon as a certain scene that was presented to him on a huge TV. His bloody fingers reached out, but were stopped by the bars around the equipment. The boy took a shaky breath, then he schooled his features in blandness.

"What is this supposed to prove, coward? Too scared to come in here yourself?" Childish, maybe, but the anger behind the inventive taunts was as obvious as it was entertaining. The man in front of the monitor smiled and pushed the button that activated the microphone.

"We'll see each other soon enough. And in the meantime, I thought you might like to witness your own funeral, Jamison Reagan!"


	3. Chapter 3

**November 24** **th**

Nicki was again dressed in black. Since Jamie had died, she liked to keep to the dark, low-key colors, which helped not to be noticed by teachers or people in general. They all wanted to know how she was doing, how she felt. Didn't they get it? Her life was crappy enough without their constant reminders that everything had taken a turn for the worst. Sometimes Nicki went outside but returned before she reached school, making sure that her mum didn't notice that she was skipping classes. Today, she'd made it through the lessons, though. It hadn't even been too bad, people had kept their distance and the walk home had had a calming effect on her nerves. When she reached Reagan Manor, like she called it, she was even humming quietly.

She sang, grabbing a letter from the porch and opening it on her way in. It was addressed to the whole Reagan family, who she was a part of, so hopefully the adults wouldn't mind. Probably just insurance stuff anyways. Her fingers touched a single, hard sheet of paper, glossy on one side.

"What is...?", she murmured, a bad feeling forming in the pit of her stomach. Why would somebody send a photo? Advertisement? Carefully, she plucked the content from the envelope and looked at the picture. Then she screamed from the top of her lungs. Nicki didn't let go of the sheet, although she wished she'd never seen what was on it. She couldn't stop screaming.

Suddenly Danny was beside her, pulling her into his arms and gently taking the photograph from her. His eyes widened when he held the picture up behind her back, his grip around her tightening.

"Where did you get that?"

"I - It was lying in front of the door", Nicki stammered, tears in her eyes. "Was that, is that a picture of Uncle Jamie? I mean, b-before he died?"

"I don't know. Could have been photo-shopped", Danny answered truthfully while he placed his niece on the couch. Then he called Frank, Henry, Linda and Erin downstairs. They had to see this, no matter how painful the picture might be. Danny examined it again, bothered by one fact: although the car was a wreck and Jamie was clearly hurt, his body was not burned yet. Did that mean there was a witness? Somebody who'd seen the accident but had for some reason not tried to help?

"Has to be a forgery", Henry said, following the same line of thought his grandson had. They both paused, though, when Frank turned the photo around.

"Do you still wonder what would have been if? Whether you could have saved him? Does it still hurt?", Linda read aloud, shaking hands crossed in front of her chest. Danny looked proud that her voiced didn't waver even though Nicki knew Linda's self-control was fragile at best. Danny had told her in confidence that he often woke up to his wife stroking his hair and whispering that he should never leave her side again. All because Jamie had passed away. All because Jamie... Nicki pulled out a Kleenex and wiped her eyes, determined not to cry and interrupt anything.

"Is that a fingerprint down there?", she asked instead, pointing at a smudge directly beneath the writing.

"Yeah, looks like blood", Danny stated.

"Blood?"

"Yes, Nicki."

"Maybe it's from the man that took the photo?"

"Or it's Jamie's", Frank suggested morosely. The implications of that idea weighted down on the family, making them even more depressed and angry. Nicki didn't understand what they others were thinking, but she had a different idea.

"What if...", she slowly said, capturing all the attention in the room, probably because nobody had heard her speak so much in a while. Or they are not used to me participating in the important discussions, she thought and allowed herself the tiniest of smiles. "What if that blood is indeed from Uncle Jamie? They wouldn't put it there without a reason, right? What if..." She could hardly say it, so impossible was it, "What if Jamie is not dead but kidnapped?" Silence. Heads being shaken. Sympathy.

"Nicki..."

"No, it makes sense, actually", Danny interrupted before her mother could crush her dreams. Nicki looked up, surprised. It had been too much to hope, but if her Uncle believed it, maybe there was a hint of a possibility.

"Her reasoning is faultless. The picture, the writing, the blood... come on, Dad, Grandpa, what would we think if it were any other case?"

"I checked the report three times, I even talked to the coroner. Sorry, kiddo, but your brother is gone", Henry replied darkly, but Nicki and Danny weren't convinced. After a moment of consideration, Frank joined in.

"Somewhere along the chain of evidence the dental records must have been tampered with. It's highly unlikely, but not entirely impossible. The real question is what we do with this information."

"What info?", a high voice asked. A small head appeared in the door, gawking. Nicki put down the picture, but it was already too late, the damage was done. Jack's eyes widened in surprise, then a shout escaped his lips.

"Uncle Jamie!"

"Jack, it wasn't, it was just a picture", Linda tried, making a step towards her son, who evaded her arms with the effortless grace of years of practice.

"He's dead, and someone took a picture of it? He..." Jack was getting all green, his little hands pressed to his mouth. Suddenly, he made a run for the door and vanished onto the street. Linda started to follow, but Nicki held her back.

"It's my mess, I'll clean it up. I'll find him", she said, leaving the house and scanning the street. Strangely enough, her cousin was nowhere to be seen. Nicki groaned inwardly, hopping down the stairs and calling Jack's name. No answer. He wasn't hiding in the garage either, or anywhere behind the parked cars. How would Linda take it if she had to tell her that Jack had disappeared after all that had happened to Jamie?

"Worst timing ever", she muttered, aimlessly walking down the road. Maybe he'd gone to visit his friend a few blocks down? Just when she had decided to check, Sean's voice broke through her thoughts.

"He's not at Tim's. He's in his castle."

"His what?"

"The castle. It's in Mrs. Marple's spruce."

"Thanks, Sean, I owe you", Nicki said and smiled at the youngest Reagan, who nodded in return. Then she walked over to the neighbor and crouched down next to the tree. Sean was right, she could see two feet dangling out of a platform between the branches.

"Jack? May I come up?" Jack whispered something, which Nicki took as an invitation. She climbed up about two meters, until her head was the same height as her cousin's.

"Linda is right, you know? It was just a picture. A bad, terrible joke from someone at your Dad's work", she explained soft-spokenly. Lying didn't come easy to her, but telling a ten-year-old about her theory and then disappointing his hopes again would have been far crueler.

"I..."

"Sorry, what did you say?", Nicki asked, reaching out to carefully pat his back. Jack slid over to her side, relaxing in her embrace. His glasses were dirty, as were his hands and feet. He wasn't even wearing shoes, Nicki noticed.

"Yesterday I dreamed that Jamie was still alive. That he was sending me a message with the Morse-code he taught me", Jack told her earnestly, "the light was blinking S-O-S a lot, but I didn't get the rest, it was just too fast."

"Oh, Jack." She didn't know what to answer, but as it turned out, she didn't need to say anything. After a minute of awkward silence, Jack shrugged in a way that reminded his cousin a lot of Danny. Focusing on the important matters.

"We better get back before Mum goes crazy", he said, grabbed a think branch and swung himself to the ground, grunting when his socks landed on the damp ground. Nicki smiled.

"Next time you return to your castle, Sire, please bring shoes or your Mum really will go crazy."

"Sure." Without another word, they interlaced their fingers and returned to the house. Jack went upstairs, not protesting at all while Nicki sat down on the couch again. They had obviously examined the photograph in the meantime, because now it was carelessly placed on the table, whereas the envelope was cut open. It revealed another content, a small black USB-drive that had been stuck in a corner. Somehow Nicki did not want to know what was on it.

"He send that too?", she inquired, just to be certain. Henry nodded. Danny opened his laptop and without further delay, plucked in the drive. It rattled and a loading bar appeared, slightly old fashioned in its coloring.

"Looks like there is some sort of program in the auto-start", Nicki offered. The monitor turned black - a virus? - but then a line of words ran through the field of view.

"Wanna find out what really happened to your beloved Jamison? Assemble the family and press Enter", Frank read, shooting an almost nervous glance at the other Reagans. He didn't like the turns this day had taken, but if there was any chance the road might lead to his son, he would have to risk it.

"Ready?"

"As ready as we'll ever be", Linda answered, inching closer to Danny, who kissed her on the top of her head. The whole family seemed to take in a deep breath, then Frank pushed the button.


	4. Chapter 4

**Warning:** The following chapter contains violent scenes which some viewers might find distressing. Don't like, don't read. ;)

* * *

 **November 23** **rd**

The enclosed space of his cell was beginning to make Jamie go crazy, as was the solitude. He had not seen a single human face for a long time - how long exactly, he wasn't sure. There were no windows and the lights were turned on and off irregularly, which was very effective if you wanted your captive to loose track of time completely. Even when his captor visited, which was a rare occasion, he wore a white mask, thereby earning him the nickname Casper. Jamie had given it to him when he had heard his voice during the first days. He had kind of hoped Casper would turn out to be as harmless as Casper the friendly ghost, although that was highly unlikely. Jamie snorted, pacing, his hands clasped behind his back.

His eyes shot everywhere, lingered on the camera, the TV, the walls, the hard bed and even the toilet, just to avoid the sight of the most prominent furniture in the room. A massive iron chair war dominating in the middle of the room, its legs welded to the floor. On its armrests, thick iron cuffs were fastened. Jamie had examined them extensively, but the mechanism that made them open and close was not accessible without tools. He hated that chair, hated what it symbolized. Even though sitting down on it was the only way he received food and water. Every time he obeyed the command, it felt as if he was giving up. He hated giving up.

"Stupid chair", he murmured, relaxing when he heard his own raspy voice. His fingers loosened and he came to sat down on the bed, waiting for something to happen, for his family to finally show up at the doorstep, preferably with guns blazing. Of course his trust in the others, especially in Danny had never wavered, but as the days passed, he'd become restless. Anger had followed, days in which he had trashed the cell, throwing the bed and raging, having nowhere to go. Then hollowness had set in, though Jamie never allowed himself to despair. That was until he saw his brother weep at the tombstone with his name on it. Now the hopelessness war inching closer every second, so Jamie was almost happy when the voice from the microphone told him to take a seat.

"Fuck you", he answered, staring at the red dot of the camera. If this was the only way to fight this, to fight his personal hell, he would. Rattling laughter rang through the cell. Jamie nearly winced, stepping back from the door and readying himself for an attack. There were no weapons he could use, of course, as he'd been stripped of everything, even his belt, jacket and shoes. It doesn't matter, he told himself, us Reagans don't go down without one hell of a fight.

"Come and get me, asshole", Jamie reconsidered, sitting down. The cuffs clicked closed, but the fire in his eyes only soared higher, his fists balled. When a female voice rang out, he cringed, surprised beyond measure. His hands opened and suddenly the door flew open, giving entrance to a large woman that was carrying a handgun.

"Nice to meet you", she said in a flat voice. For a moment, Jamie stared, trying to get his bearings. She was a few years older than him. Tall, wide shoulders, light skin, flaming orange hair that was braided to one side and lots of freckles. His goddamn captor had freckles?

"Who are you?", he demanded, flexing his trapped hands uncomfortably. His bare feet were free, but what chance did he have against that lady with her gun? Anger at his predicament warred against the fear that was threatening to take over. Jamie chose to be furious.

"Who the hell are you? Get me out of... mmpf", he started until a hand was placed on his mouth, effectively cutting of his curses. He bit down hard, drawing blood.

"Ouch!" She yelped, pulling her fingers away and backhanding him, although it seemed to be more of a reflex, judging from her flushed expression. Then, inexplicably, she grinned at him.

"Quite the little lion pup", she stated almost teasingly, "This was not how it was supposed to go, you know? I'm not here to hurt you, in fact I just wanted to get a look at you."

"And why is that?", he asked, incredulous. Blood was running from his lips, tasting salty and filling him with dark pride. It might have been a girl tactic to bite, but what else was he supposed to do in his position? At least he'd done some kind of damage.

"Let's say I'm here because the landlord wanted me to check on his neighbors."

"That makes no sense at all. We're not in the middle ages."

"No, but we're in Mexico, far out and away from the cities", she answered without a hint of humor in her dead brown eyes. Jamie paused, wondering how long he'd been unconscious after the car crash. He remembered pain, a hit to his already throbbing head and then darkness descending. It might have been possible to keep him under with drugs, a little voice in the back of his mind argued. Mexico. Oh God, how was his family supposed to find him if he wasn't even in the country any longer? Unwilling to show his feelings, he clenched his jaws shut and waited. The woman watched so closely that he almost wanted to bite her again.

"How are they treating you?", she asked politely, coming closer. Instinctively, Jamie leaned back, his head reeling from all his unspoken questions.

"Aside from the fact that I'm locked up?", he quipped sarcastically, surprised when she nodded. Thinking about it, his imprisonment could have been a lot worse. The stress was mostly on the mind, he decided, remembering the funeral scenes. Of course he wouldn't tell that strange woman about it as she was very likely Casper's accomplice in some way.

"You're unhurt." It was more a statement than a question, because she'd been lifting up his shirt to look at his pale, smooth chest. And the woman was right, except for his injuries from the car crash he hadn't been touched. The blood on his shirt was dried, days, maybe weeks old.

"Good", she said impassively before stepping back and turning to go, leaving him at the mercy of whoever was behind that camera. Not even looking back once, not caring whether he would die.

"Hey! Hey, wait!" Now Jamie struggled against his bonds, trying to get up and reach for her. Although he still had no idea what this visit had been about, he knew things weren't going to get better once she was gone. But slowly the door slid shut, blocking his view from the woman. What the hell?! Patiently, he waited for the clicking sound that would release his wrists. Nothing happened and after a while he got agitated, frowning at the camera in annoyance. If this was meant to intimidate him, it would not be working. Danny had told him all about scare tactics and ways to screw with the mind, actually tried a few on him when he was younger. From there on, he was not flustered as easily. When the door opened again, Jamie kept his face carefully blank, recognizing the white plastic mask as the one of his captor.

"What a day, two visits", he commented snidely, balling his fists, only now noticing that the man wasn't carrying food as usual. Jamie's insides turned cold, his breath quickening in anticipation. He'd always known that just keeping him contained would not be the end, dreading and dreaming about the next step, maybe a chance for escape. Both men remained silent, sizing each other up. The man was circling him like a shark, but Jamie refused to be prey.

Suddenly, the man grabbed him by the hair and pulled his head back. Jamie cried out, more from shock than pain, which made Casper conceal a smile under the mask.

"Say hi to your family, little Reagan. We're live", he hissed into Jamie's ear before he let go to point at the camera. Things finally fell into place as Jamie understood how fragile his position really was. He wasn't even the target of his captor's wrath, just and instrument to torture his family. Somehow this was even worse than being kidnapped by a random psycho.

"Danny is gonna rip you to pieces", he uttered, grinning a little as he pictured the scene. When the man only laughed and patted him on the cheek roughly, Jamie realized he'd done exactly as the man wanted him to. Fine, then he was not going to say anything from now on.

"Wrong answer", the man said with delight, rounding the chair once more and coming to stand directly in front of Jamie. His open hand whipped back and connected with Jamie's cheek.

"You hit like a girl", Jamie remarked, faking bravery by thinking of Danny. His brother wouldn't have been afraid, so neither would he. His captor's face reddened in anger and the next blow was faster, the fist closed. Immediately, Jamie's eyes watered from the sting, but before he could brace himself, a vicious kick to his unprotected ribs tore the breath from his lungs. The world went all hazy and black for a moment, then the pain hit him like a wall of cold water, bringing him back around. Jamie gasped.

"Smile for the cameras", the man said, again sitting Jamie up straight by pulling his head back. Drama for the audience, Jamie realized and with a start, he remembered what possibilities the recording presented. If that camera indeed sent a live-stream to his family, he had been given the key to his quick rescue. The young police officer frowned, thinking hard. Then he did smile, but not at the camera, but at the man holding him hostage.

"I'm in Mexico", he said loudly and clearly. Rage didn't even begin to cover what happened then. The man literally went berserk, kicking and punching and aiming for all the painful places he could reach. At some point, Jamie gave up his act of invincibility and screamed in agony as he was hit over and over.

"Tell them what will happen if they come looking for you! Tell them I will kill you long before they'll be able to get here!", Casper shouted, kicking out. Jamie looked up, his nose bleeding heavily. "Wouldn't that be redundant since you already told them?" He spit on the floor, pain and fear colliding with his reluctance to give in. For a heartbeat, Jamie considered to keep insulting Casper, but in truth there was nothing to gain other than a more severe beating. Would that madman eventually kill him if he didn't get what he wanted? No need to find out, Jamie thought and winced when his head was knocked against the chair by a powerful blow.

"Don't search for me! Just don't. I'll be okay." Which was the biggest lie he'd told yet. But as he stared up at his tormentor with growing dread, he knew nothing he said would matter. Danny, Frank, Henry, hell, even Erin, Nicki and Linda would go out of their way to find him. This was far from over.

Casper nodded, satisfaction written all over his posture. He refrained from punching his victim any further, seeing that his primary goal had been achieved. None of the Reagan's would dare to come close, thereby risking sweet Jamie's health - or what was left of it, anyways. Dark memories rose like bile in his throat, scenes from his own ordeal so many years back. It felt different today, less depressing now that he was finally enacting his revenge. And revenge he would get. He would destroy his enemies like they had destroyed him, only this time he would be thorough.

"Stay tuned for the next episode", Casper said with a wink in the direction of the camera before he abruptly left the room. Jamie collapsed as soon as his bloody wrists were released, choking on his own blood. He barely made it to the toilet before the heaving began. One thought kept echoing through his muddled brain. The next episode.


	5. Chapter 5

**November 27** **th**

"I will not tolerate this!", Danny shouted, thoroughly frustrated. Jack shrunk on his place on the table, letting the spoon fall from his nose. Clattering loudly, it hit his cornflakes and milk went splashing everywhere. Sean squealed in delight, then pretended to be as angry as his father was.

"Really, Jack, you should have better manners!", he said, gloating. Danny didn't like the bickering of his kids, but let them proceed without parental interruption. Maybe his outburst had been a little too much, especially if you considered what had happened the last few weeks. Absentmindedly, he wrung his hands in his lap until a soapy cornflake hit him square between the eyes.

"Food-fight!", Sean screamed, standing up from his seat and aiming for his brother with his self-made spoon-catapult. Quickly Danny took hold of the cutlery and quieted down his children before a tired Linda appeared in the room. His wife had lain awake half the night after the horrible scenes from the video they'd seen, then tossing and turning, probably having nightmares as well. Danny couldn't help her, couldn't even help his brother, whose nightmare was very real. That's why, he realized, he was restless and frustrated. Frank had taken the USB-drive to specialists, but the program itself was encrypted and activated from the outside. Hard to imagine that the criminal, who was obviously some kind of expert, had been careless enough to leave valuable clues behind.

"Damn it all to hell", Danny muttered, placing one hand on his wife's shoulder. Linda kissed his palm, then went to get a cup of coffee. They had discussed what to do for most of the evening, all in agreement that the would not, under any circumstances, just sit by and watch his kid brother get tortured. Nevertheless, Mexico was huge, they couldn't just march in there and demand to have Jamie back. Realistically, the chances of a massive police search were non-existent, as even his Dad didn't have enough political ties to make something like that happen outside New York.

"Dad?"

"Yeah?" Jack had spoken, his adorable little face very serious. Danny had dreaded this moment, knowing what his son was about to ask.

"Is Uncle Jamie really alive?" Out of the corner of his eyes, Danny saw Linda cross her arms in front of her chest. She sipped her coffee but made no move to explain the situation, which meant that it was his turn. Alright, Danny thought, here it goes.

"There has been a mistake in the proceedings. You see, the man that died in the car crash was mistaken for your Uncle."

"If he's not in the car, then where is he?", Sean piped up.

"A bad man took him, but we're doing our best to find him and bring him home", Danny stated with as much conviction as he could muster. It sounded like a lie to his ears, seeing that he was comfortably having breakfast with his wife and kids while Jamie was locked-up, alone and bleeding. Probably calling for help, hoping against all reason that somebody would find him.

"Danny...", Linda warned, noticing the first signs of his agitation. Gratefully, he nodded in her direction.

"We should go or else you'll be late for school", Danny said evenly. Linda smiled and prepared the lunch-boxes for their children. Half an hour later Sean and Jack were safely in school and Danny on his way to Frank's office. Altogether, it was a depressing visit. The guys from the technicians' department hadn't been able to gain anything useful from the data, admitting that it was professionally done. The only new information was that the stream also activated the camera of the laptop, sending back the footage via the same encrypted system that they hadn't been able to track so far. Without the password that was now being demanded, nothing could be done. Frank had also confirmed his suspicions that there were no fingerprints except Jamie's and their own on the photograph or the envelope and that a widespread search on foreign ground was out of the question. After all that, they'd sat in silence for a few minutes.

"We need more clues. We need Jamie to get us something more, but how do we tell him?"

"He's a cop. He'll know", Danny said, surprising both of them with his confidence. Usually, he took any opportunity to jest with his brother, mocking his rookie status and inexperience in general. Only now he realized how much he trusted his abilities as well as his sharp mind.

"He's a Reagan", Frank supplied, less sure than his son but trying not to show it. Of course Danny saw through the disguise, although he didn't know what to do about it. Father and son had never been able to comfort each other, having a more manly relationship that was based around whisky, beer and company during baseball games. Somehow Danny doubted that the time was right for either of that.

"So we wait? We can't just wait!"

"Sometimes there is nothing else to be done, son. Be patient", Frank said. Wordlessly Danny left the office, stomping down the stairs before he could say anything he'd regret later. He was close to smashing the window out of pure spite until he saw the white envelope that was clipped to his windshield.

"What the fuck?" If there had ever been a day where he was not up for practical jokes, it would have been today. Yet Danny doubted that his colleagues were teasing him, considering that he was officially on sick leave. Then what? Hastily, he tore open the envelope and caught the single snip of paper before the chilly wind could rip it away. Eighteen numbers, exactly as much as the spaces for the password of that goddamn program.

"Make sure the whole family is there to watch", Danny read, his voice hoarse. He blinked a few times to get rid of the red haze in front of his eyes, scanning his environment. Nothing out of the ordinary, in fact the pavement was almost abandoned because of the unpleasant weather. When he asked an old lady, the only would-be witness, she declined having noticed anything. So much for the easy way.

"Get everybody here now. I got the password", Danny told his father after taking the elevator back up, grim determination lacing his voice. Frank made a call and less than half an hour later, the complete tech department was set up in his office. The signal, wherever it was coming from, would be traced. Additionally, Henry, Linda and Erin had arrived, the latter with an angry scowl on her face.

"Nicki is too young for this kind-", she protested, but was cut off by the teenager herself busting through the doors.

"The note said the whole family! I won't be the cause for Uncle Jamie's death! Besides, it isn't as if I hadn't seen anything like it before on TV."

"That's not the same", Erin argued, but a look from their Dad quieted her. Poor Erin, Danny thought, fighting off the guilt at having Nicki brought into it.

"Come, stand over here", he said instead, pushing Nicki close to him and holding her tight. "If it gets too much..."

"I know", Nicki said exasperatedly. They'd discussed her participation at length, deciding that Jamie's survival mattered more than a trauma to his niece. Still Danny wondered whether they'd made the right decision when he typed in the password. As before, the screen went black and then the cell reappeared, Jamie again being held by the chair. Somebody, maybe Jamie himself, had tried to clean him up, wiping away some of the blood except for a red smudge on his lips. It hadn't helped much, his clothes were still torn, his lip split and one of his eyes swollen shut. Danny was almost grateful for the cover the t-shirt provided, thinking of Nicki, whose fingers were already digging into the flesh of his arms.

The man on the camera was turned towards the lens, standing directly behind Jamie, speaking directly to his audience. His voice was low, not carrying any accent when he told them to ask his captive a single question to prove this was indeed a live stream. "I don't need to remind you that asking the wrong question would end badly for young Jamison here", he added. Nicki gasped at the announcement that she could theoretically talk to her uncle, she hadn't been told in advance by the adults. The others didn't bat an eye, quickly exchanging glances to decide who would speak to their relative.

"Jamie?", Danny had to clear his throat to be heard, "Jamie, kid, what's your favorite movie?"

"What?", Nicki shouted, completely dumbfounded, "you could have asked whether he was alright, whether he..." Jamie's scream cut her off. Immediately, all life drained from her face and her eyes returned to the monitor. What had she done? Tears threatened to spill and Danny pulled her head against his pullover, murmuring that it would be okay.

"The city of debts", Jamie replied slowly, looking directly into the camera for the first time. Danny would have liked to congratulate his little brother on his choice, knowing the trick question had been understood when a different film than Jamie's all time favorite was presented. Now, what did 'City of debts' mean?

The criminal's voice interrupted Danny's considerations. "Well, now that that's settled..."

Suddenly, Jamie screamed, tensing in his chair and then slumping down, breathing hard. What? The criminal hadn't moved, what was happening? Then Danny remembered the small glint of light he'd mistaken for a glitch on the recording, maybe a reflection from the sun. Wrong. The man was using a stun gun on his brother, shooting 1,200 volts of electricity through his muscles.

"You bastard", Danny and his siblings all murmured in unison, Jamie as well. The man laughed, obviously delighted by the pain he created on both sides of the screen. He circled the chair, showing his weapon openly now. At Danny's chest, Nicki was crying. Erin and Linda looked positively ill while the Reagan men stared stoically. On the other side of the room, the faint clicking of multiple keyboards could be heard as the technicians did their best. Danny only hoped it would be good enough.

"Stop it", Nicki whispered an eternity later when Jamie's tormented screams finally dimmed, when he had no energy left to pull at his bonds. Once more the Taser pierced his skin, jolting the body awake but not earning more than a weak sound. Not much longer and his brother would not react at all anymore, Danny thought darkly, despairing when the man still didn't seem to be satisfied.

"Know that this is all your fault, commissioner!", the man declared, finally turning away from his victim to face the audience. "And yours, Daniel Reagan!"

Danny couldn't even protest, having lost his ability to speak the moment. His fault? More than it already was? What could he have done to piss off somebody enough to do... to do these... things to his brother? His Dad seemed equally stunned, hidden behind his regal posture. Nicki and Linda were staring at him, his niece's fingers loosening, her frame seeking distance from him. This whole ordeal was ripping them apart, Danny saw it clearly.

"Until next time", the man stated quite happily, reaching out and pushing something. The monitor turned black, asking for another code.

"We need to get him out. Now!", Erin shouted, throwing her hands up in an agitated manner. Strangely, Nicki was quiet. When Danny looked at her, he noticed the color of her face and silently passed her the expensive, shiny, black waste bin.

"Thanks", she whispered, saying good-bye to all of her food. Danny and Erin looked at each other worriedly. How long could this continue until the damage to Nicki's mind was irreparable?

In the meantime, Frank had dismissed the useless technicians, who had to admit that the perp, whoever he was, outplayed them when it came to hiding a signal.

"Let's talk about the movie", Henry said as soon as they'd left, sitting down in front of his son's desk. His face seemed to be even more wrinkled than it used to be, Danny noticed, perceiving how watching the videos took their toll on all of them. But how could they not put themselves through it? Was it worth the pain? Shocked, Danny forced himself to delete all lines of thought that went in that direction. They would not, NOT, give up on his little brother, even if it drove them all mad. Focusing back on the problem at hand, Danny took the other chair, waving Erin's apologies away when she admitted she did not know the movie. As it turned out, neither did Nicki.

"Is it the old one that played in L.A.?", Linda inquired, earning a short nod from the men. Henry was the first one to make a suggestion.

"Maybe the criminal comes from L.A.?"

"Too uncertain. Frankly, I don't think Jamie knows his kidnapper or else he'd given us the name in the first place. The perp said that Dad and me were responsible, which could mean that Jamie was just chosen because he was available." Ugh. That had sounded harsh. Danny winced when she saw how Nicki paled even more, gripping the waste bin like a life jacket.

"Could be about the main characters", Linda suggested, "Weren't they cops?"

"You think it's an ex-cop?", Frank inquired thoughtfully. Linda shrugged. Danny loved his wife as much for her gorgeous mind as for her good looks, but this time she was wrong. Replaying the movie in his head – and the chat he, Joe and Jamie had had after watching it – he was fairly certain what clever Jamie had hidden in his answer.

"Joe and Jamie were convinced that the cops weren't the important characters in this movie. They agreed that the speech of the gang member that explained why he had joined a gang and why he was participating in the territory war was the core of City of debts. Jamie even went as far as to compare our family to that gang. It's all about that talk, I think. He counted on me to remember it." His voice shook a little at the end, pictures of his brother rising up. Jamie watching the movie, Jamie in High-school, Jamie graduating, Jamie bound to that chair and screaming.

"Family. Gangs. The mob?" That was Nicki. Smart, young Nicki.

"Yes. The mob. Jamie wanted us to know that he was either being held in mob territory or by the mob itself. Did you ever get in trouble with the Mexican crime family?", Danny inquired, looking at this Dad, who shook his head.

"Nothing that was even remotely personal."

"So... mob territory but a perp working without the syndicate?", Henry asked. Frank, Danny and after some consideration Linda and Erin agreed. None of them really knew what to do with that bit of information, though. The areas in which the mob was active or where it had a controlling influence were huge and scattered across the country. Furthermore they couldn't go and ask around in a place where a cop was as likely to be shot as to be helped. Danny racked his brain for a solution, coming up with a whole lot of nothing until a faint memory from his time with the army came into focus.

"I need to make a call", he said, startling his family and leaving without further explanation. He sprinted for his car, broke all kinds of traffic rules on his way home, praying that he had not lost his chance to rescue Jamie. His fingers trembled when he opened the small iron box where his medals and old photos were stored. Among them, a battered sheet of paper.

Call this number if you ever need help... on either side of the law or the border. Call if you need anything. I owe you, Danny. He smiled at the memory, thinking how this was the perfect time to collect his debts.

"You alright, Dad?", Jack asked, his sleepy frame looking through the doorway. Danny gave him a thumbs-up, clutching the paper in his left hand. As soon as he'd made sure that both his sons were sleeping and Linda was still at his father's office, Danny closed all the doors to the living-room and got out his phone. He brushed out the paper, carefully reciting the faded numbers.

"Please tell me you didn't change the number. And that you're still working that business and you're still alive to help me now", he muttered, waiting for the line to connect. After the third ring, a female voice answered.

"Si?" Danny groaned, not recognizing the woman's voice in the least. Unsure what to say to the stranger, he fiddled with his medal case, pacing the room.

"I was hoping to talk to the Spider", he tried, using the only name he'd ever been given and feeling utterly ridiculous. This was never going to work, he was going to have to find another way. Maybe if he and Jackie went to Mexico and searched for...?

"The Spider is dead. She was killed over six years ago. Who is this?", the voice inquired, sounding more curious than annoyed. Danny huffed, letting himself fall down to the couch. Something like this had always been a possibility, but why now when he needed the Spider so desperately?

"It's Daniel Reagan."

"Danny? Is that you? Hm, I never thought I'd hear from you again. You Reagans are too honest folk to need my services, I always thought. Oh, wait, you probably don't remember me. When we met, I had only just begun training", the woman said, her voice full of wonder. Now Danny could connect her with the hazy memory of a young woman he'd caught a glimpse of all those years ago.

"Arabella?"

"Exactly, although nowadays they call me the Spark. Got that nickname when I replaced the Spider."

"You replaced her?", Danny repeated slowly, already hating the words he was gonna utter next, "In that case I need to ask you for a favor."

* * *

 **A/N:** Now I passed the 10k mark and still have no idea where this story is going.

Any suggestions, whishes or criticism? Please leave a **review**!


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Just when I was about to post the newest chapter yesterday, I noticed a gaping plot hole as big as the Baltic Sea. As a result, I had to rearrange a lot of the following scenes. Sorry in advance about the uneven chapter lengths! But as a consolation you're getting two of them today. ;)

* * *

 **November 28** **th**

Danny had not told Erin about his meeting with Arabella. In fact, only Frank knew what he was doing, seeing that Danny would not have been comfortable to speak to that dangerous a person without anyone knowing where he was. Now he was sitting in a dimly lit bar on twenty-second, waiting for her to make an appearance. He'd just ordered his beer when someone slid into the booth.

"Hey, Danny", she said, holding out her hand and shaking his. She'd gotten older, lost some of that nervous energy in her movements, but the wide face with that small pointy nose, the amber eyes and the paleness were still the same.

"How is the business going?", he said when he noticed the band-aid on her hand, which she was obviously ignoring. To his astonishment, a dark shadow passed over her face, but the expression was gone so quickly he wasn't certain. A warning sign flared in his head, but he dismissed it, focusing on the conversation.

"It's fine, thank you."

"And the hand?"

"Just a scratch. Really, Danny, I don't mind making small talk with you, but the phone call yesterday seemed urgent." Arabella raised an eyebrow, "Or did you just stop by to make sure I was doing alright?"

"No." At the tone of his voice, her face transformed again, going from child-like amusement to cool business-woman in a matter of seconds. That was fast, he thought, reminding himself that he had to watch out with her. Still, he needed the help, no matter whether their relationship was based on trust or not.

"I called because my brother Jamie has been kidnapped. We have reason to believe that he is on Herrera territory or at least someplace the mob has influence on."

"Why do you think that?", she wanted to know, leaning back and folding her hands patiently. Like her predecessor, she didn't have to take any notes. Carrying evidence could be the death of her with the work she did, Danny guessed, despising the idea that he had to resort to this path. Getting Jamie back is the only thing that is important, he repeated his current mantra. Nevertheless, he didn't want to show his hand completely yet.

"Just a hunch." An answer she was obviously not happy with, but she nodded anyways, being used to vague information from her various clients. As a liaison between the cartel and their customers, she probably had to deal with all kinds of lies and half-truths.

"Any idea by whom and why he was taken?"

"Revenge and no, we do not know the person", Danny answered, reflexively choosing the plural as this was a family matter. Arabella took a sip of the strong coffee she'd ordered, looking thoughtful.

"Jamie... twenty-something, as pale as I am, dirty-blonde hair, blue eyes, quite handsome?"

"Yes", he exclaimed, sitting up straighter, excitement barely concealed. Had she heard about him? Did perhaps the cartel's network know anything about his brother?

"Never seen him in person, sorry to disappoint", she explained, interpreting his mien correctly, "I just researched you after your call. Wanted to check whether I remembered right. But don't worry, if he's with the family, I'll have him home for Christmas. No guarantees, though, revenge as a motivation is always an awful mess to sort out."

"What do you want in return?" Danny asked suspiciously. His Dad was the PC of New York, surely there would be a catch? In her business, nobody got anything for free. So what would it be? How much was the life of his brother worth? When she smiled at him, Danny gripped his coffee mug tighter.

"Nothing. I like to have my own and the debts of my predecessor payed, 'cause you never know whether the next in line will be as decent as you are and keep the promises you made. Just consider us even, okay?"

"You already have another apprentice?", Danny asked, unable to keep his curious nature in check.

"No, not yet. Although I probably should find one, there are so precious few of us working the connection business... not many indeed", she said, obviously deep in thought before suddenly springing back into action.

"We done here?"

"Sure", hiding his confusion behind a sip of coffee and a tight-lipped smile. Something definitely was not right here. Firstly, the band-aid. Nobody harmed the Spark - or the Spider when she'd been alive - or nobody survived doing so. Why didn't Arabella boast about the kill? Her predecessor definitely would have. And not demanding repayment? His cop instincts told him that he could not trust her, not even after he'd rescued her and the Spider from a risky situation years back. So when the woman asked for a codeword to tell Jamie that would verify their alliance, he hesitated.

"Crossroads. Tell him Crossroads. He'll know", he said firmly, doubting the same instance whether this had been a wise decision. Would Jamie remember? It had been awfully long...

While he'd been considering the issue, Arabella had gotten up, saying how it was a pleasure but that she had a flight to catch. Danny politely extended his hand a second time although he felt uneasy. Was he making a deal with the devil in disguise? Or was he wronging a good Samaritan? Either way, she shook his hand and then weaved through the early evening crowd. In the dim light her red hair glowed like flame, proving her nickname a fitting one. "Just what are you up to, Arabella?", Danny asked.


	7. Chapter 7

**November 30** **th**

To say that he'd had a few rough days would have been an understatement. After the vicious beating, Jamie had paced his cell for hours, burning with restless energy. But as the day – or night, he had no idea – wore on, his injuries had begun to throb and his muscles started to stiffen. Ribs might be cracked, he had added to his mental list after taking a deep breath. Without adrenaline to carry him on, he had felt every sting, the aftermath of every single blow to his battered frame.

The next day had been even worse. He hadn't dared to move much, unwilling to exacerbate the damage that had been done to his body. What was he supposed to be doing anyway? After all these days, he wouldn't miraculously figure out how to escape. Finally, he had had to admit to himself that the constant fear of death, the poor food and irregular sleep were beginning to wear him out. "It's amazing I lasted this long", he whispered grimly while he slowly washed the worst of the blood away from his face. Of course he didn't have a mirror and inwardly he was glad not to be confronted by the depressing sight.

After cleaning himself, he lay down on the mattress again, ate when food arrived a few hours later and then went straight back to lie upon the bed. He was toying with the thought of an afternoon nap when all of a sudden, the door opened and emitted the large, redheaded woman. Jamie stared at her groggily, waiting for her to say something. When nothing came forward, he propped his aching body up on one elbow.

"What are you doing here? Again."

"Proving a theory. You're Danny's little brother, aren't you? Jamie Reagan? I'll be damned, it is you." She'd already found confirmation in his face. Why hadn't she known that before? From the way she was running her fingers through her open hair, things had just gotten complicated for more than one of them. Deal with it, Jamie thought in an uncaring manner, lying back down. Her eyes narrowed at the sight of his bruises, but he made no effort to explain the situation.

"Quick thinking with the movie title. Bet there was a hidden message in there", she commented a little out of context, leaning against the chair. Immediately, Jamie tensed again, but contrary to Casper, the woman - he decided to name her Fire after her hair - seemed merely amused.

"No need to be afraid, I don't mind your plotting, as long as you keep from doing it again. From now on, you'll convey only the messages I tell you to. Understood?"

"Yeah", Jamie said hoarsely, tempted to put the pillow over his face. Why couldn't people leave him alone? Maybe he should try to escape again, yet the small gun held loosely in her palm deterred him effectively. Fire leaned in close, hiding both their faces from the camera.

"I met your brother the other day. He said to tell you Crossroads." The codeword! Amazing how many childhood games turned out to be deadly serious. Once, they'd discussed dozens of secret words that would have one or the other meaning. Crossroads had been a symbol for mistrust on one side but seeing a good chance on the other. Like a road to freedom, only that you could not trust the messenger.

"Okay. What am I supposed to do?", Jamie whispered hurriedly. Time might be running out, Casper could appear any second.

"Just trust me, I'll get you out of here when the time's right", Fire replied. Her expression was serious, but was there falseness glinting in her eyes? Was she friend or foe? What would it be? Jamie's head was on overload, so he merely nodded. Fire patted his shoulder, then made a strange gesture. Something beeped and the door opened. Seconds later, she was gone in a whirl of activity, being stopped just outside of his cell. Leaving me again to endure whatever that sick bastard is planning to do to me, Jamie thought with a growing sense of hatred. She was no better than Casper. Through the thick metal, Jamie could hear their angry voices going back and forth, probably Fire being interrogated by Casper about the content of the moments the camera had not been able to catch.

Whatever, Jamie thought, if you tear each other apart, all the better. Please open the door while you're at it. Drowsily, he flexed his fingers and turned around on the too small bed, trying to find a more comfortable position. He was just about to close his heavy eyes when his name was shouted. Odly enough, it wasn't Casper's outraged cry but Fire's. "What have you done to Jamie Reagan?"

"Beat me up, but it's not like you care", he murmured and tried to shut them out, tried to get the voices out of his head so he could finally find some peace. Some small part of him was concerned by his own lack of interest, yet it was quickly overpowered by the thought of sleep; Inviting, enjoyable, restful sleep. Even Caspers answering tone seemed less loud, rather defensive and to Jamie's ears he sounded soothing like waves on the sand. As he slipped deeper into the world of dreams, Fire's accusation pierced through the haze. "You drugged him!"

What? I've got to wake... wake... up, his mind cried out, knowing that it was already too late. He couldn't move and an instance later, he was fast asleep.

* * *

Danny had been tossing and turning for over three hours. Finally he decided to take a walk, clear his head a little. Careful not to wake Linda, he got up and reached for his running shoes when he heard a noise downstairs. Springing into cop-mode, he left the sneakers and instead pulled out a gun. The safety was switched on, symbolizing Danny's feeling of security within his house. No way a burglar or other criminal was stupid enough to break into his home. Walking down the stairs, he saw the light on in the kitchen and hid the gun with a skilled movement before his elder son could see it.

"Jack", Danny whispered, slightly worried, "why are you up at this time of the night?"

"Just had a bad dream."

"Wanna talk about it?" Jack shrugged nonchalantly, making Danny smile and sit down on the table. His inquiring look was met by another shrug.

"Uncle Jamie taught me Morse-code a few weeks ago and now I always dream he's trying to reach me. This little red light keeps blinking SOS and sometimes I even see it after I wake up. Am I going crazy, Dad?"

"No, of course not", Danny hurried to say. The gun at his back made him slightly uncomfortable now, so he didn't dare hug his son, fearing a huge discussion with Linda in the morning if Jack noticed the weapon. Frowning, Danny returned his attention to the argument again, thinking about little red lights that kept showing up in his own nightmares. Cameras, recording everything. Cameras?!

"Jack, buddy, did you say you had this dream a lot lately?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Would you mind if I quickly checked your room?" Bewilderment was written all over Jack's features, but he nodded curiously. I love you, kiddo. Together they climbed up the stairs, entering his son's room where Danny stopped his son from flipping on the lights. His eyes scanned the furniture, but coming up with nothing. Maybe his gut had been wrong. Even with the light on, he found nothing, nodding to himself in satisfaction. There was no reason for a camera after all. But the same instance he was about to go back to his own chamber, something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. Son. Of. A. Bitch. Jack had been right, there it was, not blinking and very well hidden, yet there was no doubt. Danny made a step forward to furiously yank out the device, then stopped himself and casually reached for the baseball on a shelf instead, which he casually placed in front of the lense.

"We should play more", he said and ruffled his son's hair amiably. Jack's enthusiasm was limited, which was doubtlessly a result of the lateness, Danny concluded.

"Go back to bed", he said, gritting his teeth when his son climbed under the covers, not suspecting a thing. Swiftly, Danny closed the door and made his way over to the bedroom, where a sleepy blond angel was waiting for him.

"What was that about?"

"I'll tell you tomorrow", Danny assured her, glancing around inconspicuously, not finding any evidence of another camera. Maybe there was an explanation for the one in Jack's room as well, perhaps he'd been overreacting. Things might look better in the morning.

"You know what? I love you, you are so beautiful tonight", Danny said, kissing her soundly and pulling her into his arms. "We should do something romantic, it's full moon and the river will look almost as gorgeous as you do. Come on!" She just stood there, arms crossed, eyebrows raised. Then she must have noticed something in his eyes, because her stance softened and she let herself be lead to the wardrobe. Silently they dressed and went out the door, getting into their car. As soon as the doors were closed, Danny let out a long breath.

"That's better", he said, relaxing and filling his wife in on the camera and his suspicions about the other rooms. Her behavior erased any doubts he'd had, her agitation matching his own. Linda came to the same conclusion he had minutes ago.

"There is only one man we got to know recently that has a liking for filming. Do you really think it's him?"

"Maybe. I'm going to call Dad and Erin. They need to know", Danny decided, pulling out his phone. Half an hour later, they all met in a 24-7 coffee shop, Erin bringing a grumpy Nicki along. Danny's niece only perked up after he'd finished his story, lifting her head from the table. Nicki pursed her lips, fidgeting with a napkin.

"I think – I'm not sure – that there might be one in my bedroom, too."

"What?", Erin said, aghast.

"Well, after Jack told me about his dreams, I started having them too. Figured it was just a weird suggestion thing, having those dreams because someone else described them to me... but now I wonder whether Jack's telling made me notice the camera when I was partly awake or something." She looked uncertain and nervously bit her lip and it was Danny who again reassured her.

"I believe you."

"Now", Frank begun, thoughtfully eyeing his family, "we can either turn our houses upside-down and destroy all the surveillance equipment, which might lead to further destabilization on the criminal's part, or we could leave them be and use them to our advantage."

"Like how? I don't know what you're thinking, but I don't want to be watched all day by that sick person", Erin said. Danny let his sister talk, but agreed with his father. They would need any head start they could get on this bastard.

"Can we go back to bed now? It's past 2am in the morning and I've got a physics exam tomorrow", Nicki groaned. Danny was almost startled by her reaction, having to remind himself that the world continued on even if terrible things happened. Daily life didn't just stay on hold.

"Yeah, let's all...", Henry said, being interrupted by Danny's phone ringing. He cringed, earning a sideways glance from his wife. Who was calling him in the middle of the night? When he read the name on the display, he relaxed, if only slightly.

"It's Arabella, I've got to take this." All eyes followed him as he stepped a outside, reconsidered and returned to his folks. They had the same right to any information he did.

"Danny?"

"That's me", he quipped tiredly. Arabella didn't entertain herself on the banter, keeping her voice even and although she did seem a little angry when Danny told her she was on speaker, she didn't disagree. During the last few days, she'd been asking around to find Jamie, she told her audience. Contacting all kinds of persons, finally coming across a single hint.

"I won't elaborate on that - anonymous sources and all - but I was able to get your message through to your brother."

"And? Where is he? Can you find him?", Erin interrupted. There was silence and Danny was afraid Arabella had simply hung up on them, then he heard her sigh.

"No, I could not. Not yet, anyway. But he said to tell you Crossroads and Graveyard."

"What's that supposed to mean?", Henry asked quietly so the woman on the phone would not hear. Danny motioned that he would explain later, clearing his throat to win a little time. Graveyard? Why would Jamie ever give him the codeword for 'kill the messenger'? They'd always joked that in every good gangster movie, the messenger ended up on the graveyard first, hence the stupid codeword. Hastily he scribbled the note on Nicki's napkin and showed it around, shrugging and trying to look clueless.

"Are you sure? Graveyard and Crossroads?", he repeated to keep Arabella on the phone a while longer, giving his family time to sort out the riddle. There was no mistaking Arabella for the messenger, or could the masked men be meant? No, unlikely.

"Of course I'm sure", Arabella replied, consternation lacing her voice. Suddenly Henry took hold of the pen, writing down an answer in that erratic penmanship of his. 'Ask her to meet!' Danny raised his eyebrow in bewilderment, then something clicked in his head. How could he have missed it?

Seeing a possibility. No trust. Kill the messenger. Of course Jamie didn't want him to assassinate Arabella, that wouldn't gain anything. What if there was more to the message than those to words?

"What exactly did he say when he gave you those words?"

"Why does it matter?", she shot back, clearly feeling that something was off. Danny steadied his breath, calming himself before answering evasively.

"He said to give the message back to you. Crossroads. Then he added Graveyard. Why is that so important to you?" There it was. Back! Danny smiled, giving a thumbs-up to his smart grandpa. Reading the words backwards, you more or less got The messenger kills me. Trust not. Possibility I see. Jamie was a genius!

Suddenly Danny remembered something else: the nearly clean face of his brother, apart from the blood around his mouth. The band-aid on Arabella's hand that was precisely big enough to conceal bite marks. Had she? Had Jamie? Or was he finally going insane from the pressure? Either way, he had to convince the woman to a second meeting.

"I can't explain over the phone. The perp is a tech-freak, he might be listening in. Can we meet another time?", he asked, praying that his improvised explanation made more sense to her than it did to him.

"Sure. Anything for the life-saver", Arabella stated, then the line went dead. Smiling like a maniac, Danny faced his family, who were still mostly confused.

"Please tell me you know what you're doing", Erin urged, drawing a chuckle from her brother. A predatory grin stayed on the cop's face as he patted his sister's back.

"Oh, I know exactly what I'm doing. And I know how to get Jamie back."


	8. Chapter 8

**December 1** **st**

The next morning, Danny tried to call his Dad, but he was repeatedly directed to voice-mail. "Why aren't you answering?", the son asked, not knowing that his Dad was actually sprinting across several flat rooftops downtown. His legs were still strong and although the stiff jacket hindered his run, Frank was not giving up the chase. He'd been at an annual fundraiser, pretending everything was normal, when an Asian guy had tried to deposit a white envelope on Frank's place at the table for the press conference. Luckily, Frank had arrived a little early, just in time to spot the intruder, who, stupid as he was, had dropped the paper and taken off, using the staircase to his right.

"Stop! NYPD!", Frank yelled, feeling a pang of amusement. Who would have thought the Police Commissioner would ever again go after a suspect himself? His feet slipped on the icy gravel on the roof, but Frank continued on, keeping his eyes on the suspect.

"No you don't...", he murmured when the guy came dangerously close to the edge. No! He could not, would not loose his only lead on his youngest son's kidnapper! But even as Frank increased his speed again and lunged, the figure in front of him jumped off the rooftop.

"He did it...", Frank said, rubbing his head. When he heard a weird splashing sound, he stepped closer, smiling to himself when he saw the bizarre scene beneath him, thanking God for his intervention. Then Frank jumped down from the roof as well.

Thankfully his fall was a short one, as he landed safely on a childrens' trampoline about three meters below, jumping a few times to get rid of the momentum. Then the commissioner hopped to the ground, congratulating himself on his elegant landing whereas the criminal must have miscalculated some angles, making him jump too far and land him face first in a swimming-pool. Even now he was trying to heave himself out of the water, but his wet clothes were making movements sluggish.

"Let me give you a hand", Frank said darkly and pulled the man out of the pool. What a pity I'm not carrying cuffs anymore, he thought, mustering the man in front of him. On closer inspection, it was rather a kid, even younger than his Jamie, which didn't excuse anything but made Frank handle him a little less rough. The grip on the wet jacket stayed firm as the commissioner turned him around.

"Where is Jamie?", he demanded to know, shaking the man a little. Not enough to warrant a formal complaint later.

"Who?" The Asian teenager seemed honestly surprised and scared a lot. Somebody had probably paid him off to deliver the envelope, Frank reasoned. But who?

"What's your name, son?"

"Hei. Hei Hatsumoto."

"Very well, Hei. You have two possibilities now. The first one involves me sending you to jail for kidnapping, aggravated battery, attempted murder and everything else my daughter can think of - and believe me, she's never been as motivated to put anyone behind bars before." At his little speech, the man's eyes widened until he looked a lot like a stranded carp, gasping for air. Of course Frank new that he looked imposing in his suit, not to speak of his height or the medal on his chest.

"What... what's the other possibility?" Good old intimidation, works every time, Frank thought, thinking about his eldest son who often told him the same thing. Bending the rules might not be right, but this case warranted any means necessary.

"The two of us are going to go to the nearest precinct now, where you'll make a statement and then we'll send you a specialist who will draw a wanted poster from your directions. We either find the man who gave you that envelope or you will get the punishment that was meant for him", Frank threatened, making use of Danny's advice freely. The little kid was already scared witless, only nodding and holding out his hands in a gesture of peace.

"Whatever you say, man. I just wanted the two-hundred bucks he promised. I had no idea there was something illegal in there."

"Two-hundred dollar for the deliverance of one package? And you didn't second-guess the nature of that envelope?"

"No, Sir. I'm sorry." If we don't find Jamie alive, you will be. If we don't... Frank swallowed slowly. We will find him. Determinedly, he pushed Hei in front of him, leaving the garden and stepping out onto the street. On the way, he picked up his phone again, noticing the message from Danny that said the meeting had been fine. In the distance, sirens could be heard and a minute later a patrol car came to pick him up.

Four hours later, Hei was on his way home and they had a drawing to work with. Somehow the man on it seemed familiar, but Frank couldn't for the life of him identify the criminal. Danny had been clueless as well when he'd been sent the picture. Now they were waiting for a match in the database.

All that had been left to examine was the envelope itself, which had been checked by forensics immediately. Nothing.

Frank sighed, looking into his office where a tired, sick-looking family waited for him. He almost couldn't make himself go in there, knowing what he would have to do. As soon as the opened the stream, something horrible would happen to his youngest. How could he? But delaying would make everything worse. He'd spoken to a profiler about this case, staying in the hypothetical realm, of course. According to the Doctor, waiting would anger the perp, increasing the possibility of even more volatile temper. There was no way around it, Frank conceded and opened the double doors.

"Are you alright?", he asked Erin, scolding himself right away. None of them were okay, they wouldn't be until Jamie was found. The clock on his desk told him it was past midnight, yet none of them looked like they wanted to go to bed and face their demons.

The scene was different this time, a shaky hand-camera provided a close-up of a door. Seconds after they had activated the stream, glove-wearing fingers picked it up, opened the door and showed the cell from the inside. The new perspective fully revealed just how tiny the room was, barely six square meters and no windows. His son had been stuck there for more than a fortnight, injured. Frank growled. When the criminal turned the lens towards the bed where his son was sleeping the sleep of the physically and mentally exhausted, the family started to shout and protest. Jamie was not waking up.

"He doesn't hear us", Nicki said, sounding more afraid than he'd ever heard her. Erin and her daughter were tightly entangled, drawing strength from each other. That's right, Frank thought, in times of trouble we stand closer than ever. And we're going to catch him, we're already getting closer.

Meanwhile, the camera was being deposited on the back of the chair, giving a good view of the bed. The criminal waited a few seconds, heightening the tension, then carefully reached out to undo the button of Jamie's jeans. What was he doing? Cold fear washed over Frank, Erin was taking in a hissing breath and Henry looked murderous. Slowly, celebrating every second, the man drew the zipper down, inch by inch bringing Jamie closer to disaster.

"Wake up. Wake up, wake up, wakeupwakeupwakeupwakeupwakeup!", Nicki cried out, both hands pressed to her mouth in horror. Frank knew that this reaction was sugar and flowers for the criminal, so he trained his face to blandness. But it was hard, god, it was so hard to stay detached. Frank blinked once, then forced himself to watch as the criminal pulled his son's trousers down.

"I can't...", Erin muttered, drawing away, only to be grabbed by her own daughter, whose face was tear-stained but as hard as stone.

"Yes, you can!" So she stayed. Stayed while the man carefully ruffled Jamie's underwear and placed some fluid on him. In front of him, Henry frowned, then Frank saw his father relax slightly.

"He's not gonna do it. It's a trick. Nothing but a try to screw up Jamie's mind. You see?" And he was right, the man didn't make any move to undress his captive any further, instead laughing dirtily, slapping Jamie's underside and thereby waking him.

"Well, that was fun, wasn't it? Although I had hoped for a little more action on your side!"

The look of utter devastation on Jamie's face as he took in the stated of his clothes and the pleased posture of the man before him was heartbreaking. Now Frank did wince, catching himself only after it was too late. Then Jamie did something that surprised all of them: he yanked up his jeans in one quick movement, jumped from the bed and landed a powerful right hook in the attacker's face, who stumbled back.

Erin snorted, Nicki cheered and Henry murmured something like "Go for it, kid!". It was a hopeless endeavor, of course, seeing that the criminal was bigger and Jamie was weakened and unarmed. As suspected, a vicious blow to the ribs made his son crumple to the floor before he reached the door. The display of resistance, however, had been quite formidable.

"That's the spirit", Frank said loudly, smiling at the camera.

* * *

Hours later, Jamie was sitting on the floor, warily looking at the bed. He could not lie down on it after what had happened there - what might have happened, he corrected himself. He'd washed the substance from his clothes as soon as Casper had left, but it hadn't been enough to set his mind at ease. Countless questions of What ifs haunted him, making sleep impossible. A while ago, the shaking had subsided, leaving him even more tired than he'd been before his nap. Jamie felt like he could sleep a thousand years, yet he would never sleep again. What if his family had watched while... What if Danny had seen that? He knew he'd been drugged again, perhaps he'd been unable to wake up? What if...?

"Not happening", he told himself sternly. This, these endless doubts had been exactly what his brother had warned him about. They'll make you stop fighting if you let them,he'd said. They destroy you from the inside if you give them any room. Placing his head in his hands, Jamie willed his muscles to relax. Pure determination was the only thing keeping him upright these days, combined with the small victories like the message to Danny or the punch. Think of the good times, the times you've won, his brother's voice spoke in his mind.

"You know, I would beat you if it were a fair and square fight. Like the time when Vinny and me went at it. Or when Danny tried to teach me a lesson about boxing and ended up being the one that was taught", Jamie pointed out to the ever-blinking camera. As much as he tried to hide it, his eyes always returned to the wet spot on his shredded jeans whereas his hands nervously kept away from it.

What if it had happened? What if he'd... he'd... been raped. He made himself think it through, taking his time to come to terms with the possibility. So what if? Jamie felt dirty, deeply within himself. Disgusted at his own body. But he was still alive and fighting and that was what mattered most. Reagans fight. Reagans don't give up because they're scared and hurt and alone. We fight. We survive. He would survive this, and if he had to lie to himself to do it, then he would. This didn't happen. It's water. This never happened. It's all a mind-game. This never happened.

It took him over an hour to be able to touch the stain and another two until he only felt mildly horrified when he thought of the episode of him waking up with Casper above him. This never happened. Think of the good things.

"Fuck this, I'm tired." What an awful choice of words, he thought with a wry grin on his face. Without haste, he turned over the small pillow on his bed and settled himself on the covers, his back to the wall. Think of the good times, he repeated silently.

* * *

 **A/N:** Well... that turned out darker than I had anticipated. Did you like it? Please leave a **review** , it would mean so much to me!


	9. Chapter 9

**December 3rd**

Nicki turned her head to glare at her mother balefully. Her hair was a mess after taking a shower and her mood was a sour one, which she showed by being extra short with Erin during lunch. Her mother was as annoyed as her daughter, so quickly a fight broke out. Nicki' voice rose to meet the agitation of her Mum while the lawyer tried desperately to stay calm.

"We can't have arguments about petty things like clothes in times like these", she tried, clasping her hands in front of her chest. Nicki stuck her tongue out, which was childish but appropriate considering her mother had just tried to prevent her from wearing a short skirt to school.

"Don't argue about my clothes and we don't have an argument. It's as easy as that."

"Nicki..."

"Erin...", Nicki mimicked her mother, whose face showed real anger. After a silent long look between them, Erin sighed and got up to do the dishes. Her posture was slightly hunched, enough to worry her daughter. Lately she spent a lot of her time worrying.

"You walk like an old hag", Nicki teased, "square your shoulders, Mum. Just because Jamie is nearly dead and Danny is in hospital, you shouldn't slump around like that."

"Nicki!"

"What? Can't you be the strong one for once? I hate feeling like the adult in the room, hate the constant dance around the important topics, hate the pressure, hate the waiting and most of all hate the videos! Sometimes I even hate Uncle Jamie a little", Nicki admitted, tears in her eyes after her sudden outburst. When her mother got over her shock and tried to embrace the teenager, Nicki grabbed her stuff for school and made her way to the door.

"See you later, Mom. And no, I don't want to talk about it. Actually, I don't want to talk to you at all."

"Nicki..." Resolutely, the girl slammed the door, cutting off the words of apology or chastisement or whatever else Erin thought appropriate. She made her way over to the diner at a leisurely pace, keeping a lookout for any cameras that been newly installed. Finding none, she allowed herself to smile while she opened the door and sat down at a booth.

"I think he bought it", Nicki said to her granddad, reaching across the table and snatching up one of the cream-filled bagels. Frank smiled back at the girl and Nicki thought she'd detected a hint of pride in his demeanor. As much as she hated being mean to her mother, the goal was to resemble a family that was crumbling down. Frustration bubbling to the surface, stress that got too much to bear and arguments for no reason. Things that would entertain the criminal that was watching through the cameras and things that would hopefully help to convince him that Danny was indeed in hospital after a bad fall down the stairs and not trailing Arabella, who was on her way back from the meeting to Mexico.

"How is it going so far? Have Jackie and Danny been successful with the flight?" That had been the tricky part, catching a plane to Mexico that would land at the same time at the same airport the obscure Arabella had chosen.

"Yes, they made it. They're staying in a hotel just across the street from the one she's staying in."

"You're not sure whether Danny's plan is a good one", Nicki guessed from the slight scowl on Frank's face. Surprisingly, the man admitted to his doubts, praising her abilities to read emotions.

"I'm certain Danny is convinced that he interpreted the code right. I'm also sure that if he finds his brother, he'll take care of things. It's just the many possibilities where we could have erred that keep me awake at night. And the fact that I'm putting both my sons in danger by sending my eldest on his own."

"He's not alone. He's got Jackie to back him up, they'll be alright." Wow, when had she taken on the role to assure the older man? Alert to the irony of the situation, Frank smiled at her and patted her hand.

"Yes, he is. He's gonna be just fine as long as we can keep the perp occupied. What do you say, want to stop by at my office later to complain about your Mom and then shout at me?"

"Sure. Anything for my two favorite Uncles", she answered, keeping her tone light. The nervous cold lump in her stomach never fully vanished since Danny had explained about his devil may care- plan. I hope you're really alright, she thought, munching her bagel and imagining the worst.

Danny was pretty sure Arabella had not noticed she'd been followed, an assumption his partner Jackie shared. The attractive woman had been devastated when they'd cut her in on the recent developments the day before yesterday. She'd also taken sick leave from the force to accompany him, not asking any questions about the numerous risks. When confronted with the definitely not legal tracing of Arabella's phone, Jackie hadn't batted an eye. Now they were staking out the woman's appartment.

"Hey, something is happening." Sitting on a chair behind the closed shutters and surveying the street, Jackie had noticed movement from Arabella's windows. The red haired woman was obviously about to leave, and, judging from the haste in her step, the business was urgent. Danny watched her head for the stairs and wished he could have planted a bug in the phone she was currently using to have a heated discussion with somebody. Maybe it was about groceries, or global warming, or the last football game, or just maybe about Jamie.

"Do we tail her?", Jackie asked, leaving him the reigns which was appreciated because Danny did not know whether he could have followed orders right now. He was aware of the huge clock counting down the seconds their risky bluff would last, especially since they'd arrived in Mexico the ticking kept echoing through his mind. Let me be in time. Don't make me be too late. Anything but that.

"Let's hurry", Danny said, already on his way to the back entrance, his gun held ready. It wasn't needed, though, Arabella was only renting a car – paying cash – and then took off with astonishing speed on the road out of town. Even as a trained police officer, the busy, narrow streets were a challenge and a few times he thought he'd lost the gray BMW in traffic. Luckily, it always reappeared in sight, so the mad chase could continue. But as the cars became rarer while Arabella first continued on through the suburbs, then completely left the tarred roads in town, their cover was decreasing. Soon they were forced to choose between detection and aborting the mission.

"Do we follow?", Jackie asked again, frowning. Her hand was resting on her legs, close enough to reach her gun in seconds should the need arise.

"We need to, even though I don't like it", Danny replied, frowning at the curved road that would at least provide cover but also a possibility for Arabella to shake her tail. Jagged rocks were blocking the view often and Danny was tempted to decrease the gap between the two cars, but Jackie held his impatience at bay.

Rounding the next sharp turn to the left, he saw that the road hat split and the BMW was nowhere to be seen. Oh, how he would have loved to curse and blame it all one Jackie, yet he knew that they'd long been discovered had he been alone and as tense as he was, they could not loose their head now.

"Which road do you think...?", he started only to be silenced by a loud crack. Out of instinct, both detective's dove down while the windshield shattered. Somebody - Arabella - was shooting at them! Now Danny did curse, and colorfully so. Jackie's humor was darker than the night when she commented that at least they had not lost the target. Wonderful.

Carefully, Danny opened his door and peeked out. Bang! His shards of glass rained down on him, as the upper corner of the window was hit. The hole was bis enough to suggest a long range weapon and Danny didn't want to take any risks, so he stayed in the car and exchanged an exasperated glance with his partner, who was crouched in the leg area on the other side. Two more shots rang through the heated, dry air, then an engine started.

"She's making a run for it!", Danny shouted angrily and tried to follow suit by gaining speed with his car as well, but nothing much happened. They had a flat, actually two of them on either side of their rented vehicle, effectively nixing any chance to continue the chase.

"Fuck!"

"Well played", Jackie answered grimly, bowing her head in admittance. "She probably saw us on the open road miles back but waited for the right moment to strike. Clever woman."

"Clever, but not clever enough", Danny objected, having brought out a detailed map of the surrounding countryside. It showed only two possible destinations, a wellness-resort for old people to the right and an old house along the road to the left. A farm or big estate, judging from the huge grounds around it. Aside from the few buildings, nothing was around for miles, therefore the choice was fairly easy.

"The relaxation temple is out of the question. Means five buildings left to check. Jamie has to be in one of them", Danny reasoned, trying to stay calm and think things through. He could barely sit still, knowing that he was so close to his brother.

"Or she's just visiting her mother. Your contact could be making house calls to any other client, Danny. Be reasonable. We should try to repair the damage and return to the hotel. Arabella might not have identified us from the distance. She might come back and then we should corner and interrogate her properly."

"No, that could be too late."

"Danny..."

"Go back if you want to, but I will not abandon Jamie to that sick son of a bitch!"

"Fine", Jackie snapped, stepping out of the car and taking the extra ammunition with her. Her fingers were steady, the complete opposite of his flushed exterior, which didn't mean much, though. Soon Danny's training overruled his emotions and her fell into step beside his partner, scanning the area and measuring the distances. It would be a long five miles, he thought, studying the map.

"He will probably be protected", Danny murmured, estimating the confrontation already. Two people charging a well-armed fortress would not last long. Nor would any sneak attack work if the houses indeed were mansions with the proper alarms and guards. Additionally, the criminal was a tech geek and would have prepared himself.

"We need a diversion or something", he said nodding into the distance. Jackie agreed reluctantly, obviously torn whether she should suggest backup. Seeing as Danny had more experience and had also received military training, she decided to leave the issue to him, which her partner appreciated. In silence they marched across the sandy street, deep in thought, planning. In fact, Danny almost stumbled when his phone rang unexpectedly.

"Reagan?"

"He send another video. We can't stall any longer", Erin explained without bothering with formalities. Immediately, Danny's pace quickened to a relaxed run he'd keep up until they reached the house. Five long miles indeed.


	10. Chapter 10

**December 2** **nd** **– afternoon**

Erin's eyes were glued to the black screen. Eighteen blank spaces, and once they were filled with the letters and numbers scribbled down on the piece of paper she was clutching, the program would load. A live stream to Jamie's prison would open and new horrors would come pouring out. It might very well be the last time she would see her little brother.

Although her Dad had warned her not to do it, she'd talked to a psychologist, a close family friend. Not about herself – that would have to wait until the nightmare was over – but about the criminal. Despite herself, Erin had wanted to understand, something she regretted now that she'd received the next password and knew exactly what it meant. It had arrived sooner than the ones before, meaning the perp was escalating, which in turn would not end well for Jamie.

"I don't want to do this", Erin whispered. Her daughter had black circles beneath her eyes, another consequence of these videos, a secondary effect she couldn't be protected from. Erin wiped her hands across her face, feeling useless. As a mother, she was a failure. As a big sister even more. Yet she couldn't bring herself to touch the buttons that would show them whether Jamie was still alive.

"Give it to me", Linda said, opening her palm to receive the code, excepting part of the responsibility the criminal had unloaded onto Erin's shoulders when he sent her the envelope this morning. It was her job to call the others, to inform Danny, her job to open the program. But could it hurt to let Linda do it? Would somebody mind? Would she always think of herself as weak?

Doubts churned through her mind, feelings Erin usually kept buried beneath layers of smart comments, toughness and expertise. Was a lawyer weaker, more cowardly than the rest of the Reagans, who were all cops? Was that the reason why she felt totally unprepared and horrified even thinking about entering the numbers? She couldn't dawdle any longer, knowing everybody's expectations and anxiousness were rising.

"Here it goes", Erin said, quickly copying the numbers after having thanked Linda but declining the offer. The two women shared a long look, knowing each others feelings because they were mirrored in the other woman's eyes. Concern. Fear. Resignation. And an unmistakable fire of the hunt, a spark that came from knowing that Danny was out there looking for Jamie. A hint of Reagan strength and confidence.

"It's dark", her daughter observed just as the light in the cell was switched on. The criminal left them a full minute to take in Jamie's disheveled state as he was sitting on the chair, his paleness, the dried blood on still unchanged shirt, the colorful bruises that shimmered in different shades of black, blue, violet and green. What else was hidden beneath the gray cloth of his shirt? What else had been done to her little brother? Jamie looked barely conscious, did he even know he was being recorded? His shoulders were low, his whole posture lacking the tension he'd been sporting the times before.

As if to answer her questions, the door swung open and revealed the perp, jerking Jamie awake in the same instance. Jamie's fingers were clenched tightly, his frame trembling ever so slightly as the man came closer, showing off a huge, shiny knife. Oh, no.

Erin was about to avert her eyes when the man clasped Jamie's shoulder and brought down the blade. A sound echoed through the Reagan's living room, but it was not her brother's scream. Not yet. The shirt was expertly cut away, exposing the vulnerable skin beneath. Jamie was staring daggers at the captor but kept his mouth closed until the man seemed to get impatient and used the hilt of the knife to give him a knock on the head. Exactly where blood had tainted the sandy-blonde hair. Erin winced in sympathy while Jamie tried to hide the pain. Then he faced the camera and delayed a message.

"He wishes you to know this is because of Stephen."

"Who is Stephen?", Henry asked and this time, the criminal did not try to silence them by hurting his hostage. Quite the opposite, now that he had gagged Jamie with a thick piece of cloth, he was pacing, listening. Erin shook her head, never having known any Stephen, turning around to face Frank. Apart from Danny who was out of the country, Frank had been the only one named to be responsible for the ordeal Jamie was going through. So who was Stephen?!

"Stephen. Stephen Wyrdmann", Frank murmured, whiter than the wall behind him. Erin was scared, because her father never ever showed emotions like that, not ever. Who was Stephen Wyrdmann? Why did he know Frank?

"Oh yes, that's right, Commissioner. Stephen. Don't tell me you actually forgot the man you killed?", the criminal asked, looking pleased and playing with the knife, teasing Jamie by pulling the blunt edge over his bare abdomen and arms, toying with Jamie's emotions. Her little brother was fighting for control, Erin could sense the struggle as much as she could see it on the screen. Hang in there, Danny is coming. We'll get through this.

"Stephen was killed by a maniac. His death was a tragedy and a terrible crime", Frank stated, gripping the back of his chair. To their astonishment, the criminal laughed, then suddenly turned the blade in his hand and cut cleanly across Jamie's shoulder. Blood oozed out of the three inches long injury and Jamie was biting down hard on the damp rag to conceal his cry of pain.

"No! Stephen was tortured and killed because of your inability to save him, Commissioner Reagan! You killed him! You did this to him, you did this to my son! And now I'm doing it to yours!" Violently holding Jamie down, Mr. Wyrdmann widened the cut, let the cold steel linger for a moment and then threw red droplets in a wide arc as he used the weapon to tear the mask from his face. The man had greasy, black locks, red sunken-in eyes that were muddy brown and thin lips that made Erin flinch when they curled into a smile because her brother hissed in pain.

"Your name is Harold, am I correct?", Frank asked, drawing the attention back to him, "I never forgot your case, it was one of the hardest we ever had. We used every resource available to find your son alive, but it wasn't enough. We couldn't save him and I'm deeply sorry."

"Sorry, huh? You're sorry. That's what you said last time, too. Sorry for your loss, there was nothing we could do. But you know what? You could have saved him! You should have gotten him out of there! But you were too busy investigating his own father!" Harold raked a hand through his dirty hair, using his left hand. He seemed on the verge of doing something crazy and Jamie tried to say something, but a warning sting at his throat silenced the attempt. Instead another thin line of blood appeared.

"We followed protocol. It was the only chance we had to find him, follow every lead we had", Frank tried to explain, glancing at his family around him who were all equally stunned by the sudden turn of events. None of them knew the criminal and even Frank had only seen him twice.

"Following... following a lead! That's what you call it these days? You destroyed my life!", Harold screamed, emitting spittle and grabbing Jamie by the hair to underline his point. Slowly he bent Erin's brothers neck backwards until Jamie had tears in his eyes and the knife's point was resting beneath his chin. Somewhere behind her mother, Nicki whimpered, whispering that now her Uncle would be killed.

"The officers did the best they could. We all tried", Frank said, transfixed by the sheen of the knife that was deliberately pressing into the skin of his boy, hurting him, torturing him. Just like Stephen Wyrdmann had been tortured, Erin understood. Resentment swelled up inside her. Why hadn't her Dad seen the connection? With the sketch - admittedly, it didn't look exactly like Harold, but it was close - he should have known! Erin tried to keep her anger under control, focusing it instead on the real reason for Jamie's pain: Harold Wyrdmann - kidnapper and psychotic killer?

The man let go of her brother again, who sighed and carefully assumed his original position, glaring at his captor.

"What would your wife think if she knew about this?", Henry suddenly inquired, making everyone in the room jump and the kidnapper's grip on the weapon tighten. Oh, shut up, Grandpa. Keep your mouth shut, this is not working, Erin prayed, but Henry had not seen the signs.

"She wouldn't want you to do this, ruin your life, committing a crime live on tape."

"My wife threw herself in front of a train", Harold deadpanned, almost carelessly dropping the knife and walking over to stand directly in front of the camera.

"Don't pretend to know me", he growled angrily, then blinked as if he'd remembered something, "And why is poor Daniel so quiet? Still having a headache from his fall?"

"He's in hospital, drugged and asleep. He has a bad concussion", Linda explained between closed teeth. Her voice was even and filled with hatred, no lie detectable. Would it be enough? Somehow Erin doubted it. And her prediction was right, Harold was not pleased.

"You left him there? Opened the stream without assembling the whole family? Get him here, right now!", the man exploded, raising his voice again to a shout.

"We can't, it's out of our hands. He's being supervised by several doctors, the nurses won't let him out of their sight", Frank said.

"I don't care! Kill the nurses, do whatever you must to get him here!"

"We can't!" That was Nicki, screaming and crying. Acting but not pretending to be desperate.

"You will! Or in less than an hour, sweet Jamison will die!", Harold replied, turning around and leaving the room. As soon as the door closed, Jamie sprang into motion. He tried to formulate words through the gag, but only achieved indistinguishable mumbling, which obviously frustrated him. Finally, he partially got up and strained to reach the knife on the floor with his bare feet.

"Smart", Erin commented dryly, mostly to relieve some of her own tension. Her daughter was updating Danny, texting furiously although she kept most of her attention firmly on the screen. The fingers of Nicki's left hand dug into the flesh of Erin's shoulder as they watched the distance between blade and toes decrease while Jamie's contorted maneuvers got painful to look at. Only a few more inches, only the space of a hand separated them, only...

"Shit!" Henry gasped as the door flew open and Harold caught Jamie in the act of escaping. The same moment her brother finally touched the hilt of the knife, a backhanded blow connected with his bruised jaw and sent him back into the chair. The knife skittered across the floor, landing in the far corner. Unreachable. Lost.

"You can't help yourself, can you?", Harold asked and patted Jamie's cheek, who looked disgusted. Harold only smiled, his earlier outburst forgotten as he placed a vial of clear liquid on the floor, daring the Reagans to ask for its purpose. In the end it was Linda who did it.

"What is that?"

"Poison."

"What?!"

"Poison." Harold turned around to the camera and winked at them, pulling out a clean syringe and dipping it into the fluid. He seemed strangely happy, examining the small bubbles of air that rose to the surface. Jamie's eyes went wider by the second, all color gone from him. Reflexively, he began to struggle as panic seized him.

"No, please don't, please don't", Nicki cried quietly, dropping the phone and seeking her mother's hand. Erin desperately wanted to comfort her, but her fingers were ice-cold and limp from shock. She'd been right. This would be the last they ever saw of Jamie Reagan, the last video stream, his last breaths before he died in front of this camera. Today would be the day they all lost him again, she knew it. And as the needle got closer and then pierced her brother's skin, she closed her eyes in defeat.

Bang!

A shot! What was happening?

Erin jumped, opening her eyes to study the screen closely. Danny! Her brother had arrived to save Jamie! Oh, Danny, please don't be too late! Now shouts and multiple screams could be heard.

"What's happening?", Frank asked calmly, mirroring his daughter's thoughts. Harold seemed visibly shaken, paleness creeping across his features. Yet he did not stop but celebratory pushed down the needle into Jamie's arm, who was on the verge of passing out from panic and the strain on his still fighting body. Meanwhile, Henry dialed his grandson's number, being surprised when Danny answered on the first ring.

"What's happening?"

"That's what I wanted to hear from you, son", Henry replied. At his words, Erin's legs seemed to become jelly. Danny would never have picked up if he was involved in a shootout. Then who? Was this all part of Harold Wyrdmann's sick game? Her quick mind pondered the question, coming up empty when searching for reasons why the criminal would pretend to be terrified, which he clearly was at the moment. Without sparing her little brother another glance, Harold dropped the vial and made his way to the door, out of their field of vision. Jamie was as tense as a bowstring, having closed his eyes. His movements were strangely irregular and he was shaking as if he was cold.

"Danny! You need to get in there, now! Yes, I understood you're still half a mile away, but the house is under attack and that man might have injected Jamie with poison. You need to save him now!", Nicki shouted into the phone she'd taken from Henry. Erin could not hear her brother's answer, but she knew he was running for his life. Well, Jamie's life, at least.

* * *

"We need to be faster", Danny told Jackie, closing the phone and reaching for his gun instead. By now he could hear the sounds of gunfire, not through the line but with his own ears. The house was looming in the distance behind the setting sun that seemed to engulf everything in fire. Let this son of a bitch burn, Danny thought, but please keep my brother safe from harm until I can take care of him.

"Danny! The car!" Jackie's voice broke through his improvised prayer, her finger pointing towards a well-known silver BMW. So Arabella was at the scene as well, probably meeting with the kidnapper and supporting him against the unknown attackers. Maybe she was even watching Jamie fight for his life.

"Faster!", he repeated, increasing his pace until they reached the driveway. There, they crouched behind some bushes and surveyed the damage. A man was lying on the ground, obviously dead. Another was close to his final breath on the doorstep. Carefully, Danny and Jackie entered a luxurious hall. Wide staircases led upstairs and into a cellar.

"Where to?", Jackie inquired, watching his back and stepping around the bleeding man to feel his pulse. Her face told him his assumption had been right: there was nothing they could do for this poor fellow. For Jamie, however, there might still be a chance if they acted fast enough.

"We need to split up. You take the first floor, I'll check out the cellar. Be cautious, there will probably be multiple armed parties in the house."

"Sure thing." Silently and efficiently, Jackie went upstairs to methodically search every room while Danny peered down the stairs he'd chosen for himself. He was halfway down when a scream could be heard. Jamie! It was his voice, unmistakably, his little brother was close. As fast as he dared, Danny moved down the hallway and opened the first door: empty room. Second and third were quiet, dark and locked. Fourth led into a storage room, but the fifth was a hit. More than ten screens and mountains of wires made up Harold's headquarter, as well as several stale bottles of beer and a huge photo of a person Danny recognized as his son, Stephen.

Another low scream spurred Danny back into action, making him leave the room in a hurry. At the end of the modern hallway, light was emerging from a crack beneath a strong iron door. The same door they'd seen on the video? Although he hadn't checked the other rooms, Danny broke into a run and sprinted through the opening, seeking cover and taking in the scene within the blink of an eye.

Jamie was lying on the floor, unbound but writhing in pain, holding his stomach. There was a person leaning over him, a tall person with red flaming hair and a gun in her hand. Arabella! She was helping the kidnapper!

"Back away from him!", Danny said, his voice dangerously low. His gun was trained on her, but Arabella wasn't making any move to get up, rather ignoring him completely to check something on Jamie's chest. What the hell did she think she was doing?

"Get off him! Now!"

"Danny...", Arabella said, glancing at him in an unconcerned fashion that made his skin crawl. They would never know what she'd wanted to say, because suddenly several things happened at once. Firstly the woman got to her feet, holding her weapon loosely in her left hand. Secondly Jamie cried out, thrashing and hitting Arabella's leg, making her stumble forward in Danny's direction. And finally the door opened again, giving entrance to a bulky man with blond hair.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Danny saw Arabella's hand tighten around her gun, so he reacted the only way possible, loosening a shot the same instance a solid body collided with his. They went down next to his brother, Danny's head hitting stone and the impact dazing him for a moment. When he came back to his senses, the intruder had grabbed his own weapon and was pointing it directly at Danny's chest, who shot an apologetic look at his brother. Sorry kid, not what I was hoping for, either. He blinked.

A cry. A shot. Then silence.


	11. Chapter 11

**December 2** **nd** **– evening**

"Argh!" Danny shouted and sputtered, emitting a small fountain from his mouth. He was wet all over, having been doused in a bucket full of - hopefully - water. His surroundings slowly came back into focus as he realized he'd been expertly knocked out. Head hurts, small bruise on my temple. Probably from the hilt of the gun. If not me, who got shot? His mind desperately tried to catch up on the events until his eyes landed on the shivering frame of his brother and his priorities shifted.

"What happened to him?" Within seconds, he was back on his feet and examined his brother, finding no potentially fatal wounds but far too many abrasions, older bruises and cuts. Jamie looked thoroughly beaten up, worse even than in sixth grade when a group of older classmates had ganged up on him.

"Dammit, kid, open your eyes!", Danny said, shaking him gently. He could feel a pulse, yet Jamie didn't wake up. Poisoned, his mind complied, remembering the panicked phone call he'd received from his family. Angrily, he turned around to face the person who had gotten them into this mess, the person that was still holding the empty bucket of warter and was following his movements resignedly.

"Arabella! What have you done?"

"I was too late. There was nothing I could have done to prevent the injection. I'm sorry." Through his dark haze, Danny hardly heard her words. They stung, each one trampling down his hopes. Jamie was dying, Jamie needed help, his mind screamed at him and Danny wanted nothing more than to scream as well. Roughly yanking Arabella forwards, he shouted at her to help his brother, only to be stopped by the blond man that had been waiting right behind the door. Now he was the one being harshly pushed as the newcomer separated the two.

"Danny, meet Isaac. He's helped me to take out Mr. Wyrdmann's mercenaries", Arabella said calmly, massaging her throat. Suddenly Danny felt bad for hurting her. He still wasn't sure whether she was being honest or not, but did it really matter right now?

"What can we do?", he asked, pointing at his younger sibling who was mumbling something that sounds a lot like his, Danny's, name.

"Your first idea is probably to call the police and an ambulance", Arabella suspected, "They won't be here fast enough. It would take them over an hour, if they came at all. Another hour to get to the hospital..."

"Okay, I get it. No ambulance", Danny agreed, placing his brother's head in his lap. "Can't we decelerate the poison's effects? What kind of poison was it?"

"We don't have a clue, Isaac already searched the whole cellar. There are no documents and the vial wasn't labeled."

"So basically we don't stand a chance?", Danny asked disbelievingly. Minutes too late, only minutes. Maybe he would've made it, had Arabella not taken out his car. Now Jamie was dying and there was nothing he could do about it. Carefully stroking the bloodied hair on his brother's head, Danny tried to concentrate. He needed to focus, to find a solution, to do something. Yet he could only stay where he was, utterly transfixed by Jamie's labored breathing.

"We don't", Arabella admitted, but the thoughtful tone of her voice had Danny looking up. Was there an idea forming in her head?

"Spill it, Arabella! Whatever it is, it has to be better than... this!", Danny ground out, gesturing at the cell and Jamie. He heard steps in the hallway and was a little surprised when Jackie entered the room, accompanied by Isaac. His partner had her gun drawn, but as soon as she saw the situation, she put it away to check Jamie's pulse. Danny knew it was fluttering and way too fast and had to keep his eyes trained on Arabella's stocky frame to stop them from watering.

"We can't involve the authorities, but they aren't the only cavalry available", the redhead stated, letting the two cops ponder her suggestion. It didn't take Danny any time to make his decision. Whatever necessary.

"How?", he asked, his face a mask set in stone. Had somebody told him a month ago he'd once place all his hopes in a rescue by the goddamn mob, he'd have laughed at them and called them lunatics. Now he wasn't sure who the lunatic was. Arabella for wanting to try this or him for accepting without a second thought.

"Get Jamison out of the house, I'll take care of the rest", she said, motioning for Isaac to come closer. Together they exited the room, leaving Jackie and Danny to carry the poisoned man. His skin was hot to the touch, feverish. His closed eyes were moving around hectically and every so often, Jamie moaned softly.

"You're gonna be alright", Danny told him firmly, not looking at his partner's skeptical mien.

"You know this is madness", Jackie said quietly as they ascended the stairs and passed the now-dead man on the doorstep. Danny didn't even so much as glance at the body, completely busy with his brother. Of course he knew the chances of the mob helping three cops were non-existent, but a client of the Spark helping three strangers? Why not?

"It's not as bad as you think", he replied and quickly explained Arabella's unique business, although he wasn't sure how much insight he actually had in her dealings. She was connecting people with the Herrera mob, putting the right word into the right ears, acting as a messenger and sometimes as an independent observer. If she matched the Spider, her skill-set was wide spread and truly scary. And as if to make his point, she and Isaac came running out of the entrance, the man's face serious while Arabella's sprouted a big grin.

"Get down!", she called out, ducking behind her car. Her head wasn't even close to the ground when an enormous explosion shook the ground, fire bursting from every single window of the house. Stones, sand and glass were raining down on them and Danny tried to shield Jamie with his own body. Luckily, they were far enough from ground zero to only have problems with small pieces of debris.

"Are you insane?", Danny hollered as soon as he'd caught his breath. The left side of Arabella's face was illuminated by the flames behind her when she turned around, still smiling erratically.

"Quite possibly", she quipped, then pointed towards the massive column of smoke that was rising into the air. "But I've also just made our 911 call. Somebody will be over to check this out for sure. Easier than phoning twenty different people before you reach the correct person." Danny only groaned and exchanged a glance with his slightly terrified partner.

"You didn't have to destroy the whole building, did you?", he asked, earning him another bright eyed expression and a smile.

"No, but I felt like it. You didn't seriously think they called me the Spark because of my hair, did you?"

"This is ridiculous." Danny didn't even bother to answer. He left Jackie to stand watch over Isaac and Arabella while he took Jamie's pulse every three minutes, noticing that it was getting less regular. Time was running out even quicker than he'd anticipated.

"Danny?", Arabella asked after a few minutes of silence that was only disrupted by the crackling of the fire and the occasional smaller explosion from within the house.

"Yeah?"

"You need to leave. I might be able to smuggle Jamie in and out without anyone noticing he's American and a cop, but you? Not likely. And I'm not even mentioning your girlfriend."

"Oh, right. Jackie, meet Arabella. Arabella, this is my partner Jackie Curatola", Danny said, trying to evade her statement by making introductions. However, the redhead only shook her head when she heard another detective was present.

"I'm not leaving", Danny determined when neither of the women made a move to shake hands. There would be no discussion about this topic, Danny told himself, being able to see the danger but unwilling to leave his brother's side ever again. Jackie seemed to think likewise, although she kept quiet while Arabella noted that they were both wearing their badges and service weapons.

"You might also want to inform your family about what has happened. No, don't use your phone, not here."

"Danny", Jackie said warningly. She stared at the other woman until she and Isaac gave the cops some space. "Again, this is madness. We followed that charming little lunatic out into the wilderness and now you want to trust her with Jamie's – and your own and my – life? Why not head for the next hospital, just because she said it would be too far? Damn, Reagan, think for a moment! She's nothing but a criminal!"

"It's not..."

"She's right and you know it", a hoarse voice supplied, "So stop bitching, Danny, and drive."

"Jamie!", Jackie and Danny exclaimed in unison, looking down at the cop's glassy eyes.

"Hey guys", he croaked, shuddered and closed his eyes while his body cramped on the ground.

"How are you feeling?", Danny inquired, wanting only to keep his brother awake, who actually had the nerve to look annoyed.

"Like I've been poisoned. Would you please get me to a hospital now?"

"It's not that easy...", Danny began, stroking Jamie's hair away from the damp forehead. Shivering, fever, cramps - what the hell had been in that vial? And how much time was left? He had to make a decision, but he'd not been prepared for Jackie's and Jamie's doubts.

"I heard most of it. Don't trust Fire."

"Fire? Oh, Arabella. No worries there, I don't trust her any further than I could throw the ruins of that building."

"Good." Jamie coughed weakly, his hands coming up to protect his stomach. His fingers were shaking violently, as was the rest of his body. And he was considerably thinner than he'd been a fortnight ago, Danny thought and wished Harold Wyrdmann into the deepest pits of hell.

"We're gonna make sure you're alright. I'll watch out for you, kid. Now rest", Danny said, trying to sound calm and reassuring but failing miserably with both. Jackie and Jamie looked at him with the same exasperated expression on their faces.

"And who's gonna watch out for you?", Jamie wanted to know.

"I am", Jackie said. She smiled down at the younger Reagan and did a better job on the act of confidence. Nevertheless, Jamie wasn't fooled that easily. Danny admired his little brother's resolve, even though it wasn't making things easier.

"Not good enough", Jamie stated. Another cramp made him curl into a ball and he gagged, spitting out the remains of his breakfast that now had a reddish tint to it. Blood?

"Hospital, Danny", he declared anyways. His big brother ruffled his hair, equally stubborn. It didn't matter whether he was putting his life in danger as long as Jamie would survive the night. A two-hour drive to the next emergency ward might very well be the end of him.

"You don't get to vote, you might be hallucinating", he commented and pulled his brother close in an attempt to stop him from shivering as much. Jackie had followed the argument with furrowed brows, but was now speaking up.

"We don't even know whether they'll want to help us. Especially once they find out we're with the police."

"That's why, if we do this mob thing, you", Jamie coughed again, clutching Danny's shoulders to stay in a sitting position, "you're gonna go back to New York. They won't recognize me. Lowly officer."

"Not a chance!", Danny howled. He only had to look at his brother to be certain Jamie could not be left alone in the state he was in. It would have been like abandoning a lamb to the wolves. No way.

"It's smart."

"It's plain foolishness. Jackie, a little help here?"

"I don't know, partner. Say we don't trust that woman, at least the two of us could follow and run interference if anything happened. If we all stay, we'll all be caught."

"Not a pretty picture you're painting."

"I know", Jackie said darkly, brushing a strand of dark hair from her face. A glance sideways at Isaac and Arabella told her that this private conversation would be over soon.

"Leave me", Jamie tried again, then gasped, his hands gripping his stomach tightly before they released suddenly as he sank back into unconsciousness.

"No", Danny answered and allowed himself to smirk when nobody contradicted him. However, the image Jackie had planted in his brain about all of them ending up as bargaining chips of the Mexican mob deterred him from going through with his original plan. "Hospital it is."

Jackie looked surprised, but left the decision to him, pulling out her gun and hiding it between hers and Danny's body. "We need to make sure she doesn't delay our movements with that long-range weapon again, right?"

"Yeah." Even as he said it, Jackie was getting up and pointed her gun straight at Arabella, who raised her hands, clearly astonished by the change of events. Her mouth opened to object, but a warning shot from Jackie quieted her down.

"Car keys."

"In the compartment on the passenger's side", the redhead replied, stepping away from the vehicle and carefully gesturing for the blond Russian to follow suit.

"Put down your weapons and slide them over", Danny joined in and received two fine handguns. His own had been lost in the flames, so feeling the weight of the metal in his hands was reassuring. One gun trained on Arabella and her companion, he put his arms around Jamie's slim waist and pulled his brother up and into the waiting BMW.

"Damn, you're heavier than you look", Danny grunted and placed his brother in the backseat before seating himself in front of the wheel. As he started the engine, Jackie joined him, still holding the two people outside at bay. Isaac looked furious whereas Arabella only shrugged and quickly glanced at her watch.

"We better hurry", Jackie commented, which Danny took as his cue to speed up as much as he dared on the sandy road. Soon the figures at the house were lost in a cloud of dirt and the sounds of the fire were replaced by the rumbling of the tires on the gravel.

They had only begun to enter the canyon where their own damaged vehicle was parked when a strange noise made Danny freeze. Warily he looked up into the sky. A tiny yellow dot, twice as big as a star, made their way towards them, increasing the sound gradually.

"They've got a chopper. Of course they have a freaking chopper", he murmured, slamming on the breaks as they passed through several big rocks that might hide them a while longer. Jackie peered back at Jamie, whose lips were starting to get a bluish tint and then back onto the road. She sighed and fixed her eyes on Danny, who'd come to the same conclusion.

"They're gonna get us. And it's too far to reach the hospital by foot. Not enough time, even if we could by some miracle slip through their fingers."

"Exactly", Jackie said grimly. Danny thought about it, watched his brother fight for his life and made a final decision.

"You go. I'll stay behind and make sure nobody harms Jamie any further. They might not focus all their attention on you if we provide enough of a diversion. Try to get through to the American embassy and talk to my Dad. He'll know what to do."

"Danny..."

"Go!"

"Fine! But don't blame me if you get yourself killed", Jackie snapped. Her movements were furious as she opened the door and stepped outside into the cool air of the night.

"Be careful, Reagan", she said instead of the normal goodbyes. Danny nodded, slipping out of his seat to keep his brother company on the backseat. Breathe, kid, just breathe through it. Help is on the way. Danny didn't even know whether he meant Jackie's race towards his country and family or the chopper that had found them and was setting down only a few hundred meters from them. Men were jumping from it even before the landing was complete, dark clothed men with big rifles that Danny couldn't exactly make out in the darkness.

"Hands behind your head! Slowly, get out of the car!" Feels a little like being arrested, Danny thought sarcastically, trying to hide his anxiousness as his hands were cuffed behind his back and a black hood was thrown over his face. His breathing quickened.

"You shot me, did you know that?", Arabella said, taking hold of his arm and steering him away from the car and from Jamie. Danny groaned inwardly, remembering he'd pulled the trigger before Isaac had knocked him out. So the bullet had found its target? Nobody harms the Spider and gets away with it, he thought. Exhaustion was creeping up on him and he fought to remain standing, running on adrenaline only.

"Sorry, it was an accident", he said lamely and tripped on the uneven ground, stumbling a few steps without the help of Arabella, who let go of him as if she'd been burned.

"Don't lie to me, Danny. You Reagans don't miss. We're done."

"Wait! We had a deal! You promised to get Jamie home! Since when do you go back on your agreements?", he shouted, anger mixing with desperation. Without her support and with his name being spoken in front of all these people, his chances of survival were plummeting towards zero. She had to be joking. Come on, Arabella, the Spark, whatever you're called these days, don't abandon my little brother and me. Not to them.

"You're right. We did have a deal and I will honor it. Be assured that Jamie will be back in the arms of his family by Christmas."

"Thank you", he said quietly, risking another question, "and how will we get out of this?"

"We? There is no we, Danny. Never was and never will be after the stunts you pulled. I'm leaving. Have a good life, Danny."

And with that, her light footsteps retreated into the night. For a moment he was too stunned to react, then he sent a long line of curses after her, which was met by snickering from all sides. But for all of that, he was left alone and considered getting rid of his blindfold to make a run for it, but already somebody else was approaching.

"Daniel Reagan", an unknown voice greeted as he was being pulled along in the direction of the helicopter. He turned his head towards the speaker, trying to discern at least the outlines of the moving figures but having no such luck. Instead he listened closely and heard muttered voices as something heavy was being dragged from the seat of the car.

"What are you doing to my brother? Arabella? Answer me!"

"Don't worry, Daniel. You're with us now", the man said and patted the cop's back. Rough hands shoved Danny into the helicopter, pushing him down in a corner and tying something around his waist and legs. "Welcome to the family, Reagan. Enjoy your stay!"


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N:** Hey guys! Thank you so much for your continued support!

From now on I'll try to update the story more regularly and post a new chapter each Saturday. So... yeah. **Enjoy!**

* * *

 **December 4** **th**

Only once in his lifetime, Frank Reagan had wished for superpowers. He had never needed them before, firmly believing in the American Dream. A hard-working man could achieve anything he wanted, he'd always thought. That was until his family was breaking apart due to the actions of Harold Wyrdmann.

At first, Frank had been certain that they could beat him, that Danny would rescue his youngest son and that the family would be able to work through their traumas. Nicki especially would need time, but once her two Uncles were safely back home, she would heal. Together they could get through anything, Frank had told himself, strengthening himself right before the stream had been opened.

That's when he'd realized his mistake. Time couldn't mend everything, not everybody could be saved. Frank had not been able to save Stephen Wyrdmann and Danny would not be able to save Jamison Reagan. In this one moment of clarity, Frank had prayed for the power to reach through the screen and yank the vial of poison out of Harold's grasp or to shoot the criminal before he could condemn Jamie to a painful death.

Instinctively, he'd reached out to his son as the needle pierced the skin of his upper arm, unleashing death into the veins of his youngest. Frank would never forget the expression on Jamie's face as he met his fate: the weakness, the single tear that had escaped the self-control of the officer, mixing with both resignation and uncontrolled rage. Jamie had not been able to hide his emotions and they tore a hole through Frank's heart.

He'd almost been happy when Harold left in a hurry, giving his family the chance to say farewell in private. Yet he'd not been prepared for the chaos that followed. Harold's hasty escape had moved the camera's angle a little, so they could still see part of the room and Jamie but not the door, therefore the appearance of the young woman in the cell was a complete surprise.

"What's she doing?", Linda wanted to know, scowling. She'd recognized the mysterious Arabella from the description her husband had given her, although she'd always pictured a more imposing woman. Friend or foe? Frank guessed everyone had wondered while the woman undid the shackles that bound Jamie to the chair and felt for his pulse.

With his hands free, his son had started an attack, marking her as the enemy. But his movements were uncoordinated while hers were efficient, evading a blow and then pulling Jamie off balance with a well-placed push on the shoulders and a swift kick to his ankles.

"Bitch!", Nicki yelled and Frank agreed wholeheartedly. His son didn't even try to get up, holding his stomach and twitching on the ground, his face white. Arabella had looked down at him with an unreadable expression when Danny had entered the scene, further complicating the situation. Frank had only known from his voice that his eldest had come to save the day, because that part of the room was not visible.

"Back away from him!" A command the woman didn't obey until Danny repeated it.

"Get off him, now!" Finally she complied, giving Danny some space, which brought him partly into view. Suddenly a figure loomed behind him.

"Watch out!" Nicki again, but it was already too late. Arabella was screaming something, trying to prevent the inevitable, but a shot had loosened. Blood sprayed from Arabella's shoulder and Frank closed his eyes. Oh, Danny, you fool.

Danny was falling, ripping down the camera in the process. The screen went to static."What happened? Is he dead? Are they dead?" Nicki voiced their biggest fears.

Even now, days later, Frank didn't know the answer, replaying the moments again and again in his head. Sleeping had become impossible. He had to know! Was Danny okay or had his own father sent him on a suicide mission? Would they ever find out? What if neither his son nor Jackie Curatola ever came back?

"Coffee?", Henry asked. Frank shook his head, burying his face in the palms of his hand when the phone rang.

"Reagan."

"It's Detective Curatola."

"Jackie! Wait, I'll put you on speaker."

"Uh, yes, Sir." Somehow she didn't sound very happy, which in turn made Frank nervous. Was she alright? And why wasn't Danny the one calling his family? Was it already too late? With an unbecoming haste for a man in his station, he called down Linda, Erin and Nicki. He didn't feel like the commissioner, rather like a concerned father, so he let his worry show when he asked his son's partner for news.

Frank remembered that he'd admired Jackie's professionalism when she efficiently relayed the events. Other than that, he didn't say much, busy to think of the million ways things had gone horribly wrong. His sons - both of them - were with the Mexican mob, at the mercy of his sworn enemies. Did they already know their guests were cops? And what role did Arabella play in the disaster? Certainly she wasn't on his boys' side, was she?

"Thank you, Detective Curatola. Please return to New York", he said, feeling guilty for leaving Danny and Jamie without back-up but knowing that one Detective was more likely to get herself killed than achieve anything useful.

"Yes, Sir", she replied, sounding about as gloomily as he felt. The Reagans said goodbye and hung up, then started a fruitless discussion about the next step. Linda in particular expressed the urgent need to take action, of course out of her mind with worry. Frank couldn't blame her, but he fought hard to keep his calm.

"This is no use", he said, interrupting yet another impossible rescue plan, "We need more information. Maybe it's time I make some calls of my own."

"Who do you think has the political capabilities to sort this out? Edgar?", Henry suggested. Shaking his head in the negative, Frank pulled out his mobile phone and asked for privacy. He was going to bring his sons home, hoping Jamie was indeed still alive but not being very confident about it.

* * *

His youngest son felt like the evil witch in the fairytales that was shoved into an oven at the end. He was surprised that he was, in fact, still breathing. Oh, God, it was hot! Slowly he opened his eyes to a dark room. There seemed to be a million blankets piled on top of him and he was fairly certain the bed itself was heated. Other than the bed, the luxurious room was outfitted with three big windows, a shiny marble floor and a ventilator dangling from the high ceiling that was leisurely rotating the dry air. A thick wooden door was set into the wall to his left, closed.

"What happened?", he whispered, only now noticing the various machines he was hooked to. Medical equipment, looking very modern and functional, was piled around his sick bed. Beeping sounds came from a heart monitor where Jamie could read that his pulse had returned to normal. Normal? What... right, the poison. Casper had tried to kill him. No, Harold Wyrdmann. Or Fire? Confusion washed over his exhausted body and he sighed. He'd dreamed that Danny and Jackie had come to save him, a very vivid hallucination, unless...

"Danny?" No answer, instead Fire came through the door, smiling when she saw him awake. Oh shit. Jamie did not want to deal with that woman, not feeling up to the challenge yet. However, he needed answers, so he inquired where his brother was, making her face cloud over.

"Reagan boys. Can't give a girl a break, I see."

"Where is he?", Jamie growled, his assumption that he had not been dreaming proven right by her evasiveness.

"He's here. And no, you can not see him. He's... indisposed."

"Meaning?"

"Do you know where you are?", she asked, changing topic abruptly. Jamie narrowed his eyes, willing his mind to remember. He and his brother had been arguing about...

"I'm guessing we didn't make it to the hospital", he said grimly, "which means you and your family friends caught up with us." Damn. What a mess. Two cops, the son's of the Police Commissioner of New York no less, in the headquarters of the Herrera family. Or was it three cops? Jackie? His memories were blurry at best.

"Am I a prisoner?", he asked flatly, dreading the answer and at the same time expecting it. His wrists burned with phantom pain at the thought of being confined again.

"A guest."

"Semantics", he countered, hiding his discomfort behind the snippy tone of his voice. The woman seemed to be entertained, she folded her long fingers in front of her and stepped closer.

"You're the lawyer, semantics are what you know best. But why look at the grass when you can look at the stars? Try not to think of this negatively. A week of relaxation, then a nice journey home and you'll never have to see me again." Whatever, he thought, knowing full well that he wouldn't be able to negotiate his or Danny's early release. He had nothing to bargain with.

"Can I see Jackie?"

"No, because she's not here."

"So she got away", Jamie gloated, seeking pride in the little things. Fire laughed, making Jamie wince.

"No. I let her get away, that's a big difference", she explained, taking a chair next to his bed and sizing him up thoughtfully. Jamie could feel his self-confidence waver under her piercing stare.

"Men. You always think you're cleverer than us women, don't you? Or is it simply because you're Reagans? I wanted Detective Curatola to get away, to carry the news to your family. I wanted you to tell Danny about your whereabouts. Admittedly, the message within the movie title was well hidden, but come on! And of course you wouldn't simply tell your brother you didn't feel safe." Jamie blushed, remembering his rather thin lie about the meaning of Graveyard. If she had known, then this lead to one conclusion.

"You wanted Danny to follow you."

"That's why I agreed to the second meeting, yes."

"Why?" It made no sense. The whole conversation felt strangely surreal, Jamie thought, secretly pinching his arm to know he was not having stupid dreams. Ouch. Yes, awake and alive.

"Back-up. Danny is one hell of a cop and I trusted his loyalty to you. And because I'm a practical person, I wanted him to take you home. I don't like babysitting, no offense."

"None taken", he answered dryly, not believing her for a second. "Must have been annoying to find out I had been poisoned. Screwed up your whole plan, didn't it?"

"Kind of. Still, things would have been fine, had you boys not decided to go all Rambo on me and try to get to the border on your own."

"So what now?", Jamie asked exasperatedly. Tiredness was making his limbs numb, his lids were getting heavier. However, he still needed to know what had happened to Danny and what would happen to them in the long run. Thinking along those lines just showed how deep in over their heads they were, how little control he had. He despised it.

"Now? Now you rest and I babysit you until you're ready to go home."

"And Danny?" She shrugged nonchalantly, leaning closer to make eye-contact.

"Not my problem anymore. You deviated from the plan, which makes this your mess alone." Without a thought, Jamie's arm shot around her neck, placing her in a choke-hold. He held tight, turned her around so her back was pressed against his chest and slipped out of bed, bracing himself against the sudden vertigo in his head. Things came in and out of focus, his arm around her keeping him up as much as her in check. His hand landed on hers the same moment the touched the hilt of her gun.

"Give that to me", he hissed, leaning against the frame of the bed and applying a little pressure to her windpipe to make his point. A little part of his mind was ashamed of hurting a woman, but this was freaking Fire, so everything he did counted as payback for what he'd endured at the hands of Harold Wyrdmann.

"What do you think you're doing?", she asked sternly, letting her arms fall down to her sides and fixing that unnerving stare at him. He shook his head, taking the gun and pushing her forwards a few steps. Damn, the whole floor was shaking as if during an earthquake. No, he was shaking, sweat sliding down his back. This wasn't gonna work, he could barely stand.

"Take me to my brother", he said anyhow, leaning on Fire for support, who had one arm around his to prevent him from crushing her neck. Her fingers were cool and he shivered in the stream of air that brushed his naked skin when she opened the door. Looking down, he saw that he was not only barefoot, but also wearing one of these partly open hospital gowns. Great. Just great.

Together they stumbled down a set of stairs, funny gray stars dancing in front of Jamie's vision all the while. By the time they reached the landing, he was breathing hard. Luckily nobody had noticed his escape yet, but it was only a matter of time before they would be getting company.

"Wait a moment", he said, wiping sweat from his brow with his free hand. The gun felt heavy in his palm, as did the burden of responsibility on his shoulders. Danny, he had to rescue Danny. He couldn't falter at the base of these stairs.

"Jamie", she tried, gripping his arm tighter when he sank to his knees, taking her with him. "You will never make it. Not in this condition. Can't you see what you're doing to yourself?" Was he imagining things or was Fire actually concerned about his health? Jamie didn't have time to wonder about it, because a head was peeking around one of the countless doors. Nearly white hair, big nose, red cheeks. Jamie winced as the man's eyes widened at the sight in front of him.

"It's alright, Walt. I'm just giving my friend here a tour of the grounds. Go back to your studies", Fire piped up, patting Jamie's forearm around her neck amiably. She smiled reassuringly and Jamie had to agree she probably wasn't in any danger from him. Walt, however, seemed less convinced, so Jamie pointed the gun at him.

"Go!"

"Fine", Walt said, holding up his hands and clearly trying to hide a smirk. Jamie clenched his jaw, knowing how ridiculous he must look. Danny. He had to get to Danny.

"Take me to... him", he huffed, letting himself be more or less carried through the hallways, his feet unable to match her determined pace. Down, down they went, another two flights of stairs which Jamie only managed with an increasing number of breaks. Knowing he'd never make it back up on his own, he pressed for even more speed. His fingers on the gun were slippery and weak, his vision darkening.

Fire, on the other hand, seemed content to be dragged along, not caring whether she had to take the brunt of Jamie's weight. There might even have been a hint of a smile on her lips, Jamie noticed, wondering whether he was again acting like she had anticipated. Was this part of some plan?

"How much further?", he asked, leaning himself and her in the process against the wall. His naked butt touched the cool stone and Jamie jerked away, haunted by the memory of the would-be rape. Adrenaline flooded through him, allowing him to burst through the door which Fire had wordlessly pointed out.

There he was! Sitting on a chair behind medieval looking bars. "Danny!"

"Jamie? What on earth are you doing here? And with her?", his brother asked almost accusingly, getting up to reach for him through the bars. They hugged awkwardly, Fire still lodged between them. Finally Jamie pushed her away further into the small room.

"Damn, kid, you look like death warmed over."

"Right back at you", Jamie said. Both of them chuckled, releasing each other. Immediately Jamie lost his footing and slid down to the ground, closing his eyes against the dizziness.

"Jamie?" His brother sounded worried, so he gave him a tired thumbs-up.

"Right here. Need a... a moment."

"No problem, we'll get out of here in no time and then you can rest all you want to. Just shoot open the lock, or did you by any chance bring a key?" Had he? Jamie could hardly think straight, glancing at Fire questioningly. She answered that it had been in the room next to Jamie's, they only had to go back upstairs and collect it.

"Shooting it is, then", Danny quipped, standing away from the door. Shakily, Jamie took aim, but Fire stopped him.

"Do that and you won't leave this building alive. Neither of you."

"Why?" With more of a struggle than he thought possible, Jamie pushed himself back up, first to his knees and after a considerable pause to his unsteady feet. He beckoned the tall woman closer again, placing his arm back around her for more stability.

"You didn't bring a silencer and Walt will have informed the rest of the house by now. Furthermore, the grounds are huge and the car-park is guarded closely."

"We would still have you."

"Which I would trump with sharpshooters on the roofs." Already Jamie felt his muscles relax without the commands from his mind. He wasn't going to last much longer.

"Danny...", he warned, letting his arm drop and bringing down the gun with it. His fingers loosened, so he had to act fast. Closing his eyes and hoping for the best, he let the weapon fly through the room, narrowly missing the bars and landing in the waiting hands of his brother. The next thing he knew, his body was collapsing, being caught by Fire. Swiftly her hold on him changed, no longer pushing against him but cradling him close so his head wouldn't hit stone. Jamie was about to thank her when the grip transformed into nearly the same choking position he'd used a minute before, only that they were now in reversed roles and halfway on the cold floor. Her muscular legs brushed against his, further deranging the state of his clothes – if you could call them that - and making him very uncomfortable.

"So what now?", he murmured, still recognizing a classic stalemate when he saw one. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Danny and Fire exchange a long look. Then Danny struck as fast as lightning, his arm whipping down to her shoulder, firing twice. The woman screamed, the lock exploded open and within the blink of an eye, Danny had pulled his little brother to his feet.

"Sorry, Arabella. Nothing personal."

"Yeah, right", she hissed, holding the tiny hole in her upper right arm, close to the other injury he'd given her earlier this week. Danny didn't mistake the fire in her eyes for anything but pain and hatred, thinking to himself that a fearsome reputation didn't make you invincible. He knew from experience.

"Listen, Arabella, I don't want this to get any more out of control, but..."

"But what, Danny?", she asked angrily, watching him as he dragged his brother to the door, carefully opening it. He realized his mistake at the same instance he saw the hallway with all those doors. One scream and all this would be over, they both knew it. Danny whipped his gun around, nearly loosing his hold on his little brother in the process, only to be surprised by Arabellas placid expression.

"Go on", she urged, "I won't make a sound. Knock me out cold, if you must, but do hurry up."

"Why this sudden change of mind?"

"Because you saved my ass all those years ago and I owe you this chance. Plus I won't have to take care of sweet Jamie's safe return home, less work for me."

"What about revenge for that shot?", he asked, one hand still at the handle of the door. Arabella looked at the ceiling, yet it wasn't the gun-wound that got her all worked up, it was this discussion.

"For God's sake, Danny, go! Or else I might think this over again!", she threatened with a predatory smile that spurred him into action. Letting Jamie's frame sag to the floor for an instant, he hurried over to the woman and pistol-whipped her across the temple. No time to be gentle, he reasoned, picking up his human burden again and shuffling down the hallway. Somewhere far above him, an eerie bell sound told him a new day had just begun.


	13. Chapter 13

**December 5** **th** **\- 2am**

She lay there, dreaming of blood and bullets and pain, of poison and evil and fear. There was no light in her dreams, no help, no rescue and no salvation, never salvation. Only the dark and the way down. A shot! Pain, blood, darkness.

Nicki Reagan screamed, throwing off her blankets and stumbling into the bathroom. Her face looked ghostly in the harsh light, white and bone-tired. She hadn't been sleeping well, had been haunted by the images that were burned into her mind. Combined with the constant reminders of their family's unfolding tragedy, it made a hellish cocktail Nicki wanted to throw up. Sometimes she even thought about doing it, ending it all or running away without looking back.

"Can't. Won't. Not ever", she told the scared little girl in the mirror that was not the independent teenager she'd known as herself for so long. Nonetheless, even that shadow of a person was not ready to let go, rather opting for the other choice.

Nicki swallowed the nervousness in her throat and stepped back out of the room. They were currently all living at Reagan Manor, not wanting to miss any news from Mexico. Ever since Grandpa had made his arcane phone call to god-knows-who, nothing had happened. Jackie had been over yesterday, but they'd had nothing to talk about so the visit had been brief. Nicki simply couldn't take the silence anymore, this not-knowing, not-acting was driving her crazy.

"I won't be a victim", she whispered into the darkness, repeating a line she'd read online. Don't be a victim. Prepare for the worst, hope for the best. Nicki needed to be prepared or else she wouldn't be able to catch any of her much-needed sleep.

That's why she slowly and quietly crept through the hallway, avoiding the creaky floor boards. She heard Henry snoring in the guest room long before she saw him through the slit in the slightly ajar door. Now or never, she thought, gathering the rest of her fragile bravery.

Her feet were light enough not to disturb her great-grandpa and neither did her other movements close to his head as she opened his drawer and snatched something in the compartment for socks. It was cold and felt just the right kind of wrong. Henry stirred for a moment, turned around and stuck out his skinny leg. Flooded with guilt, Nicki hesitated, only to be attacked by another series of images. Darkness. Evil. Blood. Pain.

"No", she breathed, gripping her prize harder. As quietly as she had arrived, she exited, closing the door behind her. Maybe Henry would wonder in the morning, but Nicki doubted he would check his hiding places. Suspecting thievery was not in his sweet-tempered nature.

Her breath formed little white clouds when Nicki stepped outside, pulling her woolen Jacket close to her body. Boots and coat had to stay inside, she had to feel the icy ground beneath her feet, had to know this was reality.

Suddenly Nicki wished she would smoke. People always seemed to be relaxed when they did it, some of the older kids at school even boasted that it made them think clearer. Nicki had always held such claims in contempt, thinking that smoking made you an addict and smelled awful. Solemnly, she pulled out an imaginary cigarette, lighted it and held it between two fingers, inhaling deeply. People were right, it was relaxing. Coldness and wetness slipped around her toes when she didn't move in the backyard for a while while she enjoyed the nonexistent cigarette.

"Done. Gotta toss it", she murmured, throwing out her arm and stomping down with her foot. It helped to calm her, to prepare her for what had to happen next. With one last glance behind towards the silent house, Nicki made her way over to the castle in Mrs. Maple's garden. Four huge, ancient spruces were rustling their leaves, almost looking like giants ready to conquer the world.

"Or like Harold Wyrdmann. Like him", Nicki said. She saw him standing there with his bloody knives, his greasy hair and that evil smile around his lips. He would be so overconfident if he saw me, she thought, he'd never know what hit him. I'm a Reagan and I won't be scared.

Nevertheless she was shaking when she took out Henry's weapon from her pocket, taking the stance of the police officer's on TV: wide spread feet, fully straightened arms, both hands firmly on the gun itself. Jamie had always told her that one had to be ready for the recoil or else the shot would miss, so Nicki took her time, imagining the trajectory of the bullet precisely. Harold Wyrdmann would not believe his eyes when she pulled a gun on him. Maybe then he would be the one to be afraid.

"I hate you", she told him quietly. Her shoulders were already burning from the unusual strain of holding the weapon all the time. How much time had passed? Nicki didn't know and didn't care, she had to do this however long it would take her. Kill your demons.

"You don't scare me. You don't, don't, don't scare me." Lies, she knew it. But this time she felt more in control, the metal giving her the power to face him. Now!

"Go away!", she screamed and triggered the gun. Jamie was right, the force of the gun knocked her back, even though it was such a small object. And the noise! Why was it so loud? She'd flinched and missed the tree, missed Harold Wyrdmann. She would not miss next time.

Determinedly, Nicki faced the wood again, biting down on her lips so they would stop quivering. Kill him, make him go away! Just make it stop! Again she positioned himself and took the shot, keeping her eyes open forcefully.

Bang! The wood splintered, a hit! But Harold Wyrdmann was still laughing, why wouldn't he die? Why wouldn't his face leave her dreams alone? She needed space, needed sleep, needed safety, needed him gone.

Again and again she shot him, hitting his chest and his head until an empty clicking sound was all that could be heard in the darkness of the backyard. Out of bullets, she recognized and wished she'd remembered to take extra ammo from her grandpa's closet.

"Leave me alone", she said, big hot tears streaming down her face. The tree was damaged, but not as damaged as she felt. It didn't help at all, Harold Wyrdmann just wouldn't die. Can't shoot a demon. Nicki felt herself collapse and welcomed the ground when it touched her face. Hugging herself tightly and breathing into the grass beneath her, she finally found some degree of peace, the gun with its hot tip pressed against her shuddering chest.

"Nicki!" Somebody screamed in the distance, probably her mother. Nicki didn't react at all, not wanting to loose the silence and the darkness that had become friends for a moment. Would they turn into enemies again as soon as she would get up?

"Stay away, stay away, stay", she murmured. Suddenly warm fingers touched her cheek, making Nicki flinch. He'd gotten to her!

"No, stay away, stay away!", she screamed, but the hands mercilessly pulled her arms away from her face. They stretched her form until she was lying on her back, arms above her head and legs flat on the ground.

"Thank God, she's not hurt", a deep male voice said. Frank? What was Frank doing here? Could he save her from Harold? Her grandfather would never let anything bad happen to her. But it had happened, happened to Jamie first and might happen to her next. What was safety if the family couldn't provide it for you?

Nicki sobbed, momentarily torn between dreaming and waking, not letting go of the gun as if it was her anchor to reality. Bit by bit, she pulled herself from the darkness, blood and evil back into the cold December night, feeling the grass and the wetness on her skin. It had begun to snow.

"Nicki?", her mother asked, concern making her voice sound higher than usual. Erin's worries made Nicki's guilty conscience even worse, she knew that her actions had been unforgivably stupid. It had helped, though. A little. Maybe she couldn't kill the nightmares, but a human being would have been dead ten times over by the time the clip of the gun had been empty. Right? Right? Yes.

"I'm fine", she said, taking a deep breath and opening her eyes to stare at the tiny white stars raining down on her. It was beautiful, it made her feel a freedom she had missed far too long. You can't hurt me. I have a gun.

"I needed to get rid of my nightmares", she stated, facing the adults. Linda and the boys were awake, too, she assumed, but Jack and Sean were too young to listen to this conversation. Carefully Nicki read the faces around her. Henry was obviously ashamed since he'd noticed the gun in her hands was his, her mother seemed as furious as always and Frank, Frank was thoughtful. At least only one of them was going to yell at her.

"And you thought stealing a gun was the right way to do that? You could have hurt someone, Nicki! You could have killed someone!" As expected, Erin's voice was loud and slightly panicky. Her daughter nodded earnestly.

"I know. That was the intention."

"What?", Henry repeated numbly, "You wanted to kill yourself?"

"No! I wanted to kill Harold Wyrdmann. Or at least I wanted to know what it felt like in case he ever showed up. I needed this. I won't be a victim."

"A victim." That was her mom, completely dumbfounded. Nicki saw understanding only in the eyes of her grandfather, who was silent for a moment before he clapped his hands.

"Of course you have the need to feel safe, which may not be as easily fulfilled as it had been after all this family has been through. But you can't endanger yourself or the public, Nicki. So next time we do this right", he said, using his Commissioner's voice and leaving no room for discussion. Nicki nodded gratefully and let go of the gun, thinking that Jamie would have been proud if he'd have seen her shoot and miss only once.

* * *

"Don't let go of the gun!", Jamie yelled just in time to prevent disaster. He'd woken up again and was scrambling out of a window in the Herrera mansion in Mexico. Danny's eyes widened when he realized what was happening - his movements to reach the roof of the mansion had pushed the gun out of the waistband of his trousers. That's why the criminals always loose in the movies, Jamie thought and stretched to catch the falling device, relieved when Danny got it. He wasn't sure his reflexes were anywhere near their normal speed. In fact, he wasn't up to par in general. Blacking out in the middle of the drama had been embarrassing enough, but not being able to keep up and thereby further endangering his brother's life was even worse.

"You should hurry, I'll catch up", he said, repeating himself and pulling his long legs onto the rough ledge Danny was already crouching on. Beneath him, the door bust open and men spilled into the lounge the Reagan brother's had taken refuge in when all hell had broken loose. Either Walter or Fire - who was, according to Danny, called Arabella - must have alerted the rest of the family.

"Damn, they're fast", Jamie said, gasping for breath. His limbs were shaking from erxertion already, but he would not be the reason his brother died, so he made himself go on. Grabbing the edge of the roof and jumping for all he was worth, only to feel his muscles betray him. He'd fall.

"Danny!"

"Gotcha, kid", his brother replied, lifting him as if he was just a child. That's what Jamie felt like, most of the time. Even now, on the run from the freaking mob, he felt his brother's condescending stare bore into him. I know, he wanted to shout, but it's not my fault I got poisoned! Neither of them were responsible for the mess they were in.

"You alright?", Danny asked, looking him over. Jamie grimaced, knowing his brother saw a weak wreck of a man, pale to greenish in color, sweaty, tired and shaking. The least he could do was not whine about his condition, so Jamie got to his feet and stumbled in the direction of the helipad, which was on the right side of the roof, set a little higher than the rest. Thankfully there were stairs leading to it and a machine waiting for them. Jamie had to give Danny credit, his escape plan was a good one. Once they were in the air, following them with cars would never work and hopefully there would be enough gas to reach the next embassy.

"Oh, fuck", Danny exclaimed, having already reached the airfield. As soon as Jamie had made his considerably slower ascend, he saw what was wrong. Another machine, its rotors still moving, which meant...

"Hands behind your head, Jimmy."

"Jamie", he corrected automatically, turning around to see three figures emerge from the second helicopter. His brother murmured something that sounded a lot like "How much bad luck can one person have?" and Jamie could only agree.

"Bianca?"

"Nice to meet you again", she replied, balling her fist and striking him directly on the nose. Pain shot through him and he fell on his ass, reminded again that he was wearing next to nothing. Jamie blushed, which earned him a chuckle from the woman and a disbelieving stare from his brother, whose hands were also extended in the air.

"Seriously?"

"Shut up, Danny."

"Yeah, shut your hole, Reagan", Bianca agreed, probably meaning both of them. She seemed taller and older somehow with that self-satisfied smile on her face, Jamie thought. Still a stunning beauty, though.

"Jimmy Reardon. Jamie Reagan. Whatever. You know, I didn't even believe the rumors at first, trusted you all the way. Good work, cop, getting my brain all screwed up. And what you did to Noble, not even speaking of the rest of the Sanfino's... boy, I'd been hiding the rest of my life, so imagine my surprise when my contact told me you were actually with the Herreras right now."

"Bianca..."

"Shut up and listen, Jamie!" His name sounded worse than a curse the way she pronounced it and he flinched, wondering when Danny was going to make his move. Now or after Bianca was through with him? He was so concentrated on his line of thought that he nearly missed his cue. Only when Danny's hand whipped around to take hold of their gun, Jamie understood and tackled Bianca unceremoniously to the ground.

"Come on!", his brother shouted, already looking for an exit after having taken care of the two very surprised bodyguards. As quickly as he could, Jamie scrambled to his feet and followed Danny back down the stairs, stopping once to collect the guns. His throat was dry and he felt like throwing up, having seen all that sudden death. Two corpses on the roof, only Bianca alive... Jamie stumbled, falling to his knees and taking Danny with him.

"What the hell, kid?"

"Sorry. Danny..."

"What?!" There was no way the inhabitants of the mansion would not have blocked the stairs by now, so heading the direction his brother was going made no sense at all. Even Danny had to admit that, but they were out of options. Jumping down the roof would have been suicide, but where else to go?

"Back to plan A?", Jamie suggested, leaning against the stairs to the airfield, not having followed his brother across the flat roof. His breathing was ragged, his temperature a lot higher than normal and he was still shivering, meaning the fever was probably still on the rise. They had to make their escape now.

"Can't. I hit the fuel tank", Danny explained with a pained expression, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably. Jamie couldn't really blame him for saving both their asses up there, but his anger boiled up anyways. The only route out, the only road to freedom - lost because the great Detective Reagan had missed his target.

"You managed to destroy both fuel tanks?"

"I think so. Wanna go and check?"

"No." Of course there was no time to examine the aircrafts and they both knew it. Instead they headed for a low building on the roof, which turned out to be a small storage space for outdated equipment.

"There is no way off this damn roof", Danny huffed, turning around to his little brother with both annoyance and barely contained desperation. Jamie could see it all play out, his brother playing the hero and confronting the enemy on their way up the stairs. Him dying in a haze of bullets, Jamie being taken prisoner again and being send back to Wyrdmann.

"We can't go back towards the stairs", he said and turned around when the first figure appeared in the doorway on the other side of the roof as if to make his point for him.

"Get in here", Danny urged, stepping into the storage room. The brothers shared a dark look, then barred the door and the single window beneath the ceiling. Luckily the walls were thick concrete, as stable as the iron door. They even had electricity in form of a small flickering light bulb. Compared to his former cell, this was almost cozy, Jamie thought sarcastically.

And he had company, although he wasn't sure whether to happy about that right now. Danny seemed to be pissed.

"What now?", Jamie asked carefully, pacing the room while his brother opted for a seat on the dusty floor. For a moment he was met with silence, then Danny shrugged.

"We wait, I guess. See how much they want to get in here."

"And if they're not in a hurry?"

"Then we stay here for a while." Neither of them cared to admit that there was nothing they could wait for. Nobody knew about their rather tight predicament, meaning sooner or later they would have to surrender. Jamie swallowed, crossed his arms in front of his chest and continued to walk through the room. Eight steps, turn, eight steps, turn. It felt good to be able to move, almost like they had a chance to escape. And although his legs were tiring, he couldn't stop. In his mind, he was running.

"Doesn't look like they'll bust down the door", Danny commented about fifteen minutes later. At least Jamie estimated it to be that long since he didn't have a watch and didn't want to ask his brother.

"You should sleep, kid. I'll take first watch."

"No." Jamie couldn't sit down, didn't want to settle against the cold stone and fall asleep.

"Okay, if you insist. Wake me in a few hours", Danny replied exasperatedly and closed his eyes. Jamie nodded, staying silent and keeping up his march.

* * *

 **A/N** : Well, that was fun! Including Bianca has been a request from masongirl1337. Did you like it?

If any of you have other ideas, comments or criticism, shoot me a message or leave a **review**! Seriously, I'd love that! :)


	14. Chapter 14

**December 5** **th** **– 8am**

Danny's head pounded. He groaned and brought up his hands to block out the light. It was warm and muggy, tiny flocks of dust were hovering in the air. Slowly Danny propped himself up on one elbow, which lead to the discovery that his neck was worse than his head, completely stiff from lying on the bare ground.

"What time is it?", he asked, turning around to see his brother again – or still – pacing the room. "Damn!" In less than a second, Danny was on his feet, stopping Jamie mid-step.

"What's wrong?"

"You really need to ask?", Danny inquired, squinting. His brother's eyes were sunken and blood-shot and Danny didn't need to touch his skin to be certain he was running a fever. Jamie needed medical attention or at least bed rest.

"Why didn't you wake me earlier?"

"You needed sleep." Stupid, heroic, foolish little Jamie. Always wanting to prove just how tough he was. Even now, barely conscious and shaking like a thin branch in a storm, he kept up his facade of bravery and endurance. But it would stop now, Danny decided, taking hold of his brother's arm.

"I'm not playing around, kid. You need to sit down."

"No."

"Jamie, don't make me...", Danny dared, half-jokingly, only to have his hand slapped away and receive a truly shocked expression from his brother.

"You wouldn't." Jamie was actually retreating, was he afraid? Scared of his own big brother? Oh hell, what had he done wrong? Sleep deprivation could lead to all kinds of screwed-up emotions, but this reaction was a little extreme, wasn't it? Watching his brother's thin frame intently, Danny stepped back himself, creating a rift between them.

"I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm your brother, man."

"I know", Jamie replied, holding his head between his hands and shaking his head tiredly."Or at least my brain knows."

Come on, just let me help, Danny thought and came closer again. This time, Jamie let him proceed stoically. Hollow eyes followed his every move, but when the Detective tried to sit him down, Jamie again objected.

"I'll rather remain standing, if you don't mind." Half-dead and still the silver tongue of a lawyer. More than a little annoyed, Danny decided to take action, grabbed Jamie by both arms and pulled him down forcefully.

"Actually, I do mind."

"Stop it!" With more power than Danny would have thought possible, Jamie freed himself, not withdrawing back but lunging instead. In a flash, Jamie was a few meters away and Danny was lying on the ground, holding his smacked jaw.

"Why?", Danny asked, slightly dazed. Now his head hurt even more. Wonderful. They were surrounded by enemies in foreign country and in a freaking stronghold of the mob, yet still fighting with each other like they did at home. Not that he could remember their last brawl.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to hit you." Although Danny did kinda get the feeling that that statement was a lie, he let it pass, trying to get through to Jamie.

"Seriously, Jamie, you need to sleep. You look even worse than when you were poisoned and that should count for something."

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not!" Danny was angry, the constant pressure and mortal danger getting the best of him. Fine, the little prick wanted it to be that way? He could have it. Sometimes you needed to be cruel to be kind. "You're so far from fine, you wouldn't even recognize it when it hit you in the chest. Now you'll either be reasonable and lie down to take a nap or I'll knock you out. And in case you were wondering, I'm not joking."

"Piss off, Danny." Jamie wasn't backing down, finally showing some backbone. Danny only wished he would have chosen a more convenient time and place to grow into his own. He didn't need this kind of stress on top of the other stuff.

"Enough." Swiftly, he whipped the gun out of his waistband, pointing it at Jamie, who seemed stunned. On some basic level, Danny was equally surprised to what measures he was willing to go to get his way, but he buried his doubts behind a battle-tested wall of fury.

"Sit. Down."

"You won't shoot me." Hell, Jamie didn't even sound certain. What had happened between them that his younger sibling didn't even trust him that far? Danny scowled, flicking off the safety switch, playing on his brother's insecurity.

"Because of you, I was recently shot at, had a building explode in front of me, was kidnapped, threatened and now there's an army outside trying to kill us. Do you really want to try me right now, kid?"

Grudgingly, Jamie gathered his gown around him, taking care that his backside was completely covered by the fabric before he sat down in the corner the furthest away from him. His behavior reminded Danny so much of distraught rape victims that he had to ask.

"Jamie, did something happen? You know, at Wyrdmann's, other than the beatings?" Silence. No eye contact. Arms crossed in front of chest. Denial. Oh, shit.

Immediately, Danny let the gun drop, leaning back against the wall and closing his eyes. How was he supposed to deal with that? How was Jamie supposed to deal with that? Take a deep breath, Danny told himself, and be a professional. This might be your brother and you might feel like crap because you were one slow son of a bitch when it came to rescuing him, but he needs your help right now. Even if he doesn't want it.

"Tell me, Jamie. Whatever it is, keeping it inside won't help, it will eat you up from the inside."

"Maybe I like to be eaten", Jamie offered after a while, blinking rapidly to stay awake. Danny wanted nothing more to reach out and hug him, yet he knew that it would have been counterproductive.

"Tell me", he repeated patiently.

"You're not my psychologist", Jamie quipped hoarsely, closing himself off again. Of course this wouldn't be easy, things were never easy with Jamie. Danny got up, the gun dangling loosely in his right hand. He approached his brother like one would a caged animal, with slow movements, nonthreatening demeanor and general caution. Jamie's eyes widened as he got closer, but he didn't move away.

"What happened?" Even if he had to ask a million times, Danny promised himself he would find out eventually. And from the way things stood at the moment, they had nothing but time. It was quiet outside, they obviously wanted to wait the situation out and at the moment, Danny couldn't have cared less. He sat down next to Jamie and stared against the wall, trying to resemble a companion.

"Nothing happened", Jamie whispered. Danny waited, knowing that this could not be the whole truth although he fully wished it was. Time stretched out and weighted down on them until it nearly became unbearable. Talk to me!

"That's the problem, you know?" Suddenly Jamie turned around, his voice loud and accusing. This isn't about me, Danny reminded himself, nodding although he had no idea what his little brother was speaking of. He looked so damn young, too young to have the conversation they were about to have.

"The not-knowing. It drives me crazy."

"What happened?"

"I... um, I... there was, he and... I, and I... I was sleeping." Jamie's blue eyes were moistening and Danny couldn't keep himself from reaching out. Flinching, Jamie accepted the comfort and relaxed a little as his big brother draped a strong arm around him.

"He... um, the..., oh, get a grip", Jamie said, biting down on his lip and then continued with a hard look on his face. "I was asleep. It was perhaps the second-last day, I dunno which day exactly because there was no clock and I couldn't tell. So, I was sleeping and then he woke me and my jeans was pooled around my ankles and he was recording it and he was laughing and telling me that it had been good and that I had slept right through it and there was something... some fluid on my boxers and I felt really weird and I still don't have a freaking clue whether he was lying or not, because he could have mixed drugs into my food and I wouldn't have noticed and that sonofabitchmighthaverapedme!"

He stopped, facing his brother as if expecting some kind of rebuke. Danny pressed his brother closer, swallowed and tried to figure out what to answer to a story like that. Jamie's soul was lying open, showing all his wounds and scars. Any mistake and it might never heal again, so Danny decided not to take the high road.

"Jamie, calm down. He lied to you. He tried to mess up your brain, don't let him get to you. He lied. And he's dead."

"Dead?"

"Yeah, dead. Like in annihilated, put down, gotten a bullet right through his skull. I should know, it was me who killed him."

"Dead. You killed him", Jamie said, testing the words, rolling them off his tongue. Danny nodded and tried to look as sincere as possible. He knew that his actions would probably come back to bite him in the ass later, but hopefully Wyrdmann had indeed been killed by Arabella's men during the shooting. Anyways, if it would help his little brother sleep, it was worth the consequences.

"Shot him right between the eyes. I'm only sorry you didn't get to do it yourself."

"No, it's fine. As long as he's dead", Jamie said, smiling thinly. He seemed to believe the story, because unlike Joe and Erin, he'd never been able to tell when Danny was lying, which Danny was really thankful for.

"Sleep?", he tried again, making Jamie chuckle, further convincing Danny that he'd made the right decision.

"Yeah, sounds good." Good, Danny repeated in his mind, feeling how his brother's breathing got even. He didn't dare to move, lest Jamie wake up. Instead he went to methodically clean the gun while watching the door and the window. Would Jamie's fever go down once he was less exhausted? And how much time did they have left before somebody would come charging in?


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N:** Hey guys!

At this point, I'd like to give a huge shout-out to my friend **Jillian Pearl** , who wrote the first part of this chapter for me.  
She's an amazing author and her romantic novel "The Fire-Pit" will be published in November, so check it out, if you like. For those of you who are interested, here's the link: jillianpearl **X** /the-fire-pit/ _\- (just exchange the big X with a .com)_

* * *

 **December 5** **th** **– noon**

Nicki stood a meter away from the shooting bench watching Henry staple the target to a wooden frame. She felt her mother's stare boring into her back. The Smith & Wesson M&P SHIELD™ 9mm laid on the bench with the slide locked open. The magazine and a box of bullets sat a foot away.

She felt ridiculous in the electric blue ear muffs. She understood why Grandpa insisted she wear them, but why did they have to look so stupid?

"You can go ahead and put the bullets in the magazine now", Henry stated, coming over to stand behind her left shoulder. Nicki opened the box, plucked a bullet out and picked up the magazine. So far this wasn't a lot more difficult that loading the old revolver had been. Nicki sighed impatiently.

Then he said, "What is the first rule of gun safety?"

"Great Grandpa, can't we just shoot?"

"No! What is the first rule?"

"Always keep the gun pointed in a safe direction," Nicki muttered, clearly annoyed. She'd wanted the excitement, the thrill and the feeling of control the gun had given her last night, not a boring lecture. Although Erin probably still thought even this was too much.

"That goes for when you are putting the magazine in and chambering a round too, not just when the gun is loaded," Henry continued in a patient soft voice. "Now pick up the gun."

Irritated Nicki snatched up the gun. She wrapped the fingers of her right hand around the grip and placed her finger over the trigger. She wasn't a baby. It wasn't like this was the first time.

"I know how to do this", she said confidently, only to be cut off by the retired Police Commissioner.

"No!", he roared, "Never put your finger on the trigger until you actually want to shoot the gun. Place your finger along the edge of the frame, but not to high, you don't want to get your finger caught in the slide when you close it."

"Nicki, do what Henry says or you can just go home," Erin yelled. Why was her mom always embarrassing her? Nicki moved her finger to the spot Henry had said, shrugging nonchalantly. It felt strange.

Henry then stepped forward and made subtle adjustments to the way her hand was holding the grip. He took this so seriously. When she shot at the tree she'd just held the gun and pulled the trigger, she hadn't even had her eyes open the first time. His seriousness was beginning to make her nervous. Was a semi-auto pistol more dangerous than an old revolver or had she just been that stupid?

"Okay now take the magazine and slide it into the bottom of the grip until it quits moving easily. Then slam the palm of your hand against the bottom of the magazine to seat it."

When Nicki hit the magazine it jerked up into the pistol with a metallic clang. The sound shocked her. Her heart pounded. She didn't know why, having already killed a tree after all. I'm ready for you, Harold Wyrdmann. And with Erin and Henry next to her and the weapon heavy in her hand, she almost believed it.

"Very good. Keep the gun pointed down range. This next part can be tricky." Great Grandpa rotated her hand so that the back of it was parallel with the ground. "These things that stick out, this one is the take down, this is the slide release, and the one closest to you is the safety. You are going to hold the slide with your fingers and thumb of your left hand and pull it back until the pressure releases on the slide release. With this thumb," he touched her thumb on the grip, "you will press down on the slide release, then let go with your left hand. The slide will close and strip a round from the magazine."

He turned her hand so that the pistol was back in a shooting position. Nicki listened to his muffled voice though the horrible ear muffs. They didn't even match her outfit! She gripped the slide and pulled backward. Nothing happened and she huffed.

"Put a little more muscle into it," Erin suggested, hiding a smile. Easy for her to say, Nicki thought. She gripped the frame harder and tightened her grip on the slide. It moved, just a little. She quickly pressed the slide release down and let go. The slide slid forward so fast that she didn't see it move. The metallic clank sound it made told her it was closed. Thank goodness she'd been hanging on to the grip so hard, the gun had almost flown out of her hand! She stared at the pistol in her hand.

"Cup your left hand around the fingers and the bottom of the palm of your other hand." She moved her hand until it cradled the hand on the pistol. "Bend your elbows a little and spread your feet shoulder width apart." She shuffled her feet. This was like in the movies, like she'd done things last night. Clearly she'd done something right, Nicki thought, smiling to herself. "Now lean forward at the waist." This position felt uncomfortable.

"Look at the sights. You can't just pull the trigger without looking like they do in the movies."

Nicki gulped. The pistol was growing heavy. Her mouth felt dry and tasted funny. She didn't want to make a fool out of herself in front of Henry and Erin.

"Look at the front site, that little circular dot, and move the gun until it sits in the u shaped back site. Once you have that then move the front site until it sits just below the center of the target. Be sure to keep the back sites aligned properly," Great Grandpa instructed.

Her nose was itching, but she didn't dare move her hand to scratch it. She didn't want her mom to make good on the threat to take her home without getting to shoot. That was easy enough, she thought. Next line it up with the target. Perfect, she thought.

"Make sure everything is lined up."

She sighed and did. Oh crap, her back sight was way off. It took her three more minutes of small hand adjustments to get it all lined up. "They are," Nicki said, trying hard not to move.

"Good, now slowly and smoothly pull the trigger. When the gun actually fires it should be a surprise."

Nicki swallowed again. Slowly she placed her finger on the trigger and began gently pulling it backward toward her. Her back was tense and her breathing was ragged. Boom! The gun fired, rocking her back a step and slamming the grip into the palm of her hand. The muzzle rose toward the sky. She didn't move.

"Go ahead and set the gun down. Point the barrel down range," Henry said.

Nicki did what he said, feeling excited and a little scared all at the same time. She looked at the target 15 feet away. A small hole in the tan section of the target. Her heart sank, it wasn't even in any of the rings. She would have missed Wyrdmann. Dammit.

"Pretty good for a first shot", Henry said happily. "Many of my trainees don't hit the target on their first try at all. Now do it again and this time shoot until the bullets are gone. Then we can make adjustments to how you are aiming and holding the gun."

Nicki shook her head. This was way more complicated than she'd imagined. Frank had been right, this wasn't like a movie. But it felt good and with her family close, she felt ready for anything. Next time I'm gonna hit ya, she told the black outline of a man on the target.

 **December 6** **th** **– noon**

Jamie woke in a cold sweat. Casper's white mask, long fishy fingers and manic laugh were looming before his mind's eye, making him thrash out. He hit something hard and next to him, somebody groaned. "You really gotta stop doing that, kid." Danny. Right, he was with his brother, not back in... back there.

"Stop doing what?", Jamie asked, trying to keep it light. His brother was rubbing his head and Jamie's face reddened when he remembered just how often he'd accidentally – or by choice - hit that body part in the last few days.

"Never mind", Danny answered with a small smile, "we got bigger problems."

"Yeah", Jamie replied tiredly, "Yeah, I guess so." For a while they sat side by side, each lost in thought. Then Danny suddenly got up, cautiously peeked out the window and made his way to the door. Jamie's anxiousness spiked when his brother quickly dismantled the barricade in front of it.

"What are you up to?"

"Well, we gotta get out of here somehow", Danny replied with a hint of annoyance. "I don't see a back entrance, do you?" Not wanting to look useless, Jamie slowly pushed himself up. "Fine. Hand me a gun."

"You can't shoot. Look at you, your hands are shaking already", Danny clarified, giving Jamie a once-over. He didn't mean to be an asshole, but they didn't have any ammunition to spare and Jamie would not hit the doors of a barn from a distance of three meters right now. That's what his body said, at least. Jamie snorted.

"My fever is down. I can focus long enough", he argued. Two shooters would have a slightly better chance to get out of this room alive than just one gun-wielding detective on a suicide mission. Furthermore, Jamie did not want to be a burden any longer. He felt almost healthy, so why not help out? Why did Danny have to be so stubborn? Couldn't he admit that he was in over his head? Obviously they both were, but Jamie would have liked to go down fighting and not like an invalid, sitting against a dirty wall in a storage room.

"It's not the mind I'm worried about", Danny explained patiently, trying to ruffle his brother's hair. Jamie evaded the touch by leaning back and reaching for one of the three guns on the floor. Danny smiled, but made sure they were too far away to snatch up.

"Come on." Annoyance had crept into Jamie's voice, too. He was just about to start complaining again when he heard movement on the other side of the door. Both of them froze for a moment.

"Polite sons of bitches, giving us a heads-up", Danny said, making Jamie chuckle, "Guess it's now or never." Jamie nodded and took a position next to the entrance. Hopefully nobody would expect them to come charging through the door after it had been a quiet standoff for hours.

"On three", Danny whispered, then counted silently. Exactly on two and a half, Jamie tore open the door and presented his brother with the sight of two baffled mobsters. The older Reagan quickly fired two shots, but the criminals managed to seek cover in time. Jamie cursed as they now had to dodge bullets.

"We're not getting out this way", he hissed just as Danny recklessly jumped through the opening like a cop out of a damn movie. One of the goons didn't react fast enough and was hit. From his position in the room, Jamie couldn't see Danny anymore, but from the following silence he deduced that his brother must have hidden behind the chimney. Now what? His agitation only rose when he heard footsteps and risked a glance. At least a dozen Herrera men were coming up the stairs, not in the least deterred by Danny's warning shot.

"Dammit, Danny, give me a gun!"

"I got this, kid."

"The hell you do!", Jamie shouted, ducking to the ground when something hit the wall behind him. The chimney was already targeted heavily and was beginning to look like a gray Swiss cheese.

"Danny!" Finally, he relented and Jamie saw the black weapon being tossed energetically across the stones. "Thank you!" The same instant his fingers gripped the weapon, Jamie was on his knees, training kicking in. He aimed, closed one eye, exhaled. Pressed the trigger. Hit a mobster that had been providing cover fire.

"Thanks, kid."

"No problem!" We might actually get out of this, his mind boasted, only to be brought back to reality when a storm of bullets rained down on them both. Jamie was forced to retreat further into the room, leaving Danny pinned. They were both sitting ducks with no chance to flee. Sweat poured down his face as the young officer considered his limited options. He wasn't gonna get through to his brother. There wasn't a chance in hell he could advance and get through the door without being shot either. And there were only four bullets left in his gun.

"Fuck!" Something had clipped the wooden barrels he had taken cover behind. A splinter had embedded itself in his shoulder. Thank God it wasn't a bullet. Jamie shivered uncontrollably when suddenly a strong voice tore through the chaos.

"Stop shooting right now!" Instinctively, Jamie froze. He knew that voice, had obeyed its commands countless times so it now happened without thinking.

"Can't be...", he uttered. Cautiously, Jamie glanced over the edge of the barrel. Unbelievable! The person that was slowly coming up the staircase was none other then Frank Reagan.

"Boys? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, we're good!", Danny called out while Jamie got up from his crouch to stare at his father. He was pretty sure his mouth had been hanging open for a moment, but he didn't care much. Frank Reagan, live and in person.

"How? Why?", he stammered. His father looked him over, then pulled him into a bear-hug. "Came to get my boys home", he answered quietly. Jamie blinked rapidly, still half-convinced that he was dreaming. His body relaxed in the reassuring arms of his father but his piercing blue eyes stayed on the enemy behind his Dad's back. They were gathering at the top of the stairs, apparently being lectured by a tall guy in a suit.

When Danny reached them, he also received a hug. The two men exchanged some words Jamie couldn't make out, then Frank turned on his heels and approached the leader of the criminals. After exchanging an uneasy glance, his sons followed him.

"Mr. Aguirre."

"Commissioner."

"I was under the impression you told your men to stay down and not to engage", Frank said and frowned slightly. Behind him, Danny winced whereas the mobster smiled.

"They were only defending the house. Furthermore, your boys gave as good as they got. It is my understanding that they were the provoking party." Danny huffed, but his father quieted him with a stern look.

"Be that as it may...", Frank replied, "I will take them home now." His voice was steady as ever, something Jamie admired. Nevertheless, he did not believe the Herrera cartel would let them leave. His eyes widened even more when Mr. Aguirre smiled again and stepped to the side in an inviting gesture.

"Si Senjor, this way please."

"Just like that?" Jamie had to ask. The mobster surveyed him with another slimy expression and agreed. "Yes, just like that."

Without further comment, Jamie stepped past the criminal, his mind spinning with the utter surrealism of the situation. However, he knew nothing came without cost, especially when dealing with people like Aguirre. What had his father had to give up in order to buy their freedom?


	16. Chapter 16

**December 6** **th**

Nicki pushed her way through the crowd at the end of the street, not caring in the least when people cursed her or shoved back. Please! She closed her eyes in concentration, trying to reach God or anyone else who was listening. When she opened them again, a young man was standing in front of her.

Pale, as thin as a scarecrow and with thick black circles beneath his pale blue eyes. Hints of a blond beard. It took Nicki some time to recognize Jamie, but then all hell broke loose. Abandoning her self-control, she jumped into his arms, knocking them both back and onto the icy tarmac. Through the cloth of the black pullover, Nicki could feel Jamie's ribs, but she also felt the warmth radiating from his body. Felt his chest rise and fall, heard his surprised laughter.

"You're alive, you're alive! I missed you so much!" Words didn't even begin to describe it. Nicki smiled and cried and didn't let go until another pair of hands carefully put her back on her feet. That's when she turned around and threw her arms around another beloved family member.

"Uncle Danny! I missed you, too! Thank God you're alive!"

"Hey. Good to be back", Danny answered and hugged her right back. His strong arms welcomed her and finally, Nicki felt like she was home. The revelation only made her cry more.

"Everyone has been waiting for you to show up. Come home now", Nicki said between little hick-ups. She let go of Danny for a moment to help Jamie up, who had been contently sitting there, watching the reunion. Now all three of them were heading back to Reagan Manor, the neighbors whispering around them. This would be gossip for years to come, Nicki thought and shrugged. It wasn't important.

She was practically dancing with joy when she unlocked the front door and announced their arrival by screaming. "They're back!" As a result, something crashed down in the kitchen and then two very agitated women stormed into the room, each one embracing one of the men tightly.

"Danny!"

"Jamie!"

"Hey", Danny said again, burying his head in Linda's hair. Somehow Nicki felt weird looking on as if she was intruding on something private. She stepped back, thereby avoiding two little devils that were rushing down the stairs to throw themselves at the men.

"Uncle Jamie!"

"Dad!"

"Hey. This is getting kind of repetitive, but I don't mind. Not at all", Danny said, scooping up his boys. Although Sean and Jack were too old for that kind of thing, they clearly enjoyed to be held right now. Nicki couldn't stop smiling and Erin hadn't let go of her younger brother yet, which was a wise precaution, seeing how white Jamie was. And where...?

"Why are you holding back?", Nicki asked, strolling over to stand beside the other two Reagans in the doorway, Frank and Henry. Frank had silently followed the three youths into the house after he'd dealt with the driver. Now he seemed to be as cool as a cucumber while Henry was close to tears. He nodded once, twice, three times, murmuring something Nicki did not catch.

"Don't want to smother them with even more attention and hugs", Henry then explained. Jamie snorted, he'd obviously heard the comment. Carefully placing one foot in front of the other, the young police officer came over and embraced his grandfather.

"I hope you don't mind", he quipped tiredly. Nicki's smile wavered for a second when she noticed the lack of enthusiasm in Jamie's behavior, then she blamed it on his fatigue and winked at Henry.

"Doesn't count as smothering when you're not the active party, I'm sure." Her gaze locked with her Mom's across the hall and Nicki opened her arms. Why not extend the blissful fuzziness for a moment? Erin certainly seemed to like the idea, holding her daughter for a long while. Finally she let go, wiping her cheeks. Meanwhile both Danny and Jamie had hugged their father, the latter son nearly falling over when he was released, which made the rest of his family relocate themselves onto the couch.

"So... what happened?", Nicki asked to fill the silence. Curious faces turned to Danny, who sighed and quickly recounted the things that had happened since Jackie had left. It had been exciting at least, Nicki judged, knowing that they'd gotten the child-friendly version of events because Jack and Sean were sitting on Danny's lap.

"There are a few things we still need to talk about", Frank said, already thinking ahead. His brows were furrowed, which meant the topic would not be a positive one. Nicki, Jack, Sean and Jamie groaned in unison.

"That is code for 'send the boys to bed'", Jack moaned while Sean nodded miserably and Linda smiled down at them. Danny patted their backs and Nicki tried to look inconspicuous because she didn't want to be sent away as well. Jamie had other worries.

"I need a hot shower, fresh clothes and a strong coffee or else I won't stay awake long enough to even listen", he stated as a matter of fact. Nobody disagreed as they all saw the shadows lingering on him.

"We should meet again in half an hour", Linda suggested, tugging at her husband's hand. Danny smiled and Nicki found herself grinning as well. It was good to have them back, to deal with the usual stuff like who got the big bathroom and who would take care of the boys.

"I'll drive them home and stay a while", Henry offered, earning a grateful nod from the rest of the family. For a moment Nicki wondered why they weren't simply staying in this house, but then she realized that the only reason for them to stay here - news from Danny and Jamie - had evaporated. Besides, Danny and Linda would want some privacy.

"See you in a few minutes. Don't lock the door", Frank instructed his youngest son when they all got up from the couch. Jamie nodded curtly, already pulling the sweater over his head. Soon the sound of running water could be heard and an engine was starting in front of the house. Only Nicki and Frank had remained in the living room.

"Danny seems fine", Nicki said, biting down on her lower lip. Her sentence also implicated that Jamie, on the other hand, was not alright, which might not be an outright lie, but also not the truth. He didn't seem beaten up or anything, just... pale. A little like she had been before Henry had taken her out to the shooting range.

"Yes, Danny is fine. And Jamie will recover", Frank stated with the self-confidence of a man his age who had seen everything. Nicki tried to make herself believe him, but her gaze kept wandering towards the bathroom door, waiting for the sound of somebody falling. She felt like she was falling, too, which was ridiculous considering that she should have been so very happy.

"Things won't be like before", she answered just as self-assured. Frank wasn't fazed by her perceptiveness, the last weeks had shown him how capable his grandchild really was. Furthermore, she could read him like a book, which was very impressive.

"True. But after a while we'll find our way back to normality."

"Jamie, too?"

"Yes, him, too."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Experience." And who could argue with that? A police commissioner would have to know. Nicki would trust his evaluation until it was proven wrong. And that would never happen, she would make sure of it. Whatever her Uncles needed, she would make sure they got it.

"I'll help", she announced and returned the honest smile on Frank's lips. The sound of a key in a lock disrupted their chat.

"Henry, everything alright? Why are you back so soon?" No answer.

"Henry?", Frank inquired and shrugged in Nicki's direction. I don't know what's going on either, but I'm sure Henry will explain it. He probably forgot which fuel to use or something similar.

"Henry?" Somebody was walking down the hall, making its way over to them, but Nicki saw at once that the shape was too big for the old man. Without thinking, she moved to the weapons cabinet on top of the drawer, only to be stopped by a cold voice.

"No, my name is not Henry. It also starts with an H though."

"Harold Wyrdmann", Frank said tonelessly, blocking Nicki's view of the psychopath and thereby allowing her to grasp the old revolver from its case. Well, he would have and she could have. But Nicki remained rooted to the spot during that critical moment, then she screamed a piercing, panicked cry for help.

Unfortunately that got the attention of the criminal, who pointed the mouth of the gun he was carrying in her direction. Linda and Erin came running from the kitchen, Erin with a broom in hand. She dropped it when she saw the man that was aiming a loaded weapon at her daughter and held up her hands.

"Don't hurt her!"

"Hurt who?", Danny asked, rounding the corner thoughtlessly. His hair was still damp and of course he wasn't carrying, instead holding a towel in his hand. He didn't stand a chance against Wyrdmann either, surrendering the same fashion Erin had, only a lot less polite.

The criminal had the nerve to laugh at them, motioning for them to sit down in a corner. Pushed down by her mother, Nicki did as she was told, too shocked to even feel fear. She heard the water stop and closed her eyes in anticipation as Jamie opened the door and stepped into his worst nightmare.

And that's why lying is never a good idea, no matter how much easier it makes things, it will always come back to bite you in the ass. In other words, karma is a bitch. Danny only hoped that karma would also fling back at Harold Wyrdmann, because he deserved whatever he'd get. As they sat silently against the wall, waiting for Jamie to finish his shower, he already knew what would happen next.

"Don't...", he started, trying to get Wyrdmann's attention. The man turned around, flicked off the safety and pointed the gun in their direction. Danny stopped talking immediately.

"One more word and I'll shoot your sister. Don't ruin the surprise for young Jamison!" And what a surprise that would be, Danny thought, after I told him you were dead he'll get the shock of his life. Another trauma to add to the pile. Why couldn't Arabella do her job properly? He should have been six feet under! And how did he know we were here? Are there still cameras we missed?

The sounds of running water had stopped and the silence changed Danny's line of thought to Don't open the door, don't open the door, don't open the door. Like a broken record he repeated the words in his head, looking on as the inevitable happened. Jamie stepped into the living room, wearing nothing but old jogging trousers and a thin shirt.

"Welcome back, Jamison Reagan!" Bastard. Danny saw his younger brother freeze, the last bits of color draining from his face. Jamie was shaking, blinking rapidly and slowly backing off against the wall. His hand on the cord of the joggers was white from gripping the cloth so hard.

Helplessly, Danny watched Wyrdmann advance on Jamie, a dirty smile playing around the older man's mouth. How unfortunate the situation really was took some time to register. Finally Danny understood why Jamie was behaving so strangely, pressing his legs close together. Shit! The whole business of the would-be-rape must come crushing down now.

"Hey, Jamie! He didn't... didn't do it!", Nicki suddenly shouted. Danny gasped. As brave as his niece was, he really didn't want Wyrdmann to identify her as his target, so Danny joined in.

"You couldn't, could you? Impotence issues?" Oh, good one! Perhaps too good, he seemed to have hit a nerve, because Wyrdmann spun on his heel, fury written across his features. Momentarily forgetting Jamie, he delivered a vicious kick to Danny's stomach. Had he gotten closer, Danny might have tried to take his gun, but as it was, he curled in on himself, trying hard to breathe through the pain.

"Danny!" Erin was losing control, the horror taking over her mind. She was not used to violence, not the way Frank, he and even Jamie were. Danny had to protect the girls.

"Stay back!" Wyrdmann watched the exchange and gradually, he relaxed again, knowing that he was in control.

"Sweet Jamison, please join your family over here. I'm sure you have lots to talk about, but I'm afraid that will have to wait", Wyrdmann commanded, his greedy eyes trained back on Jamie. When he threw a handful of zip ties at his brother and told him to tie up the others, Danny thought for a moment that Jamie would faint. Sweat trailed down the young man's forehead, his chest rose and fell far to quickly. I'm sorry, kid, I shouldn't have lied. We should have hunted him down while we were still in Mexico.

"We don't have all day! Move!"

"No."

"What?" Again Wyrdmann's face reddened in anger. He clearly didn't like to be tested right now and Danny wished Jamie would finally come to his senses. What use was defiance when it didn't get you anywhere? Better to play along until you got a chance. Then he remembered Jamie's expression when they had hidden in the small storage room – the uneasiness to even enter a room that resembled his cell. Maybe he couldn't play along any more.

"I said I won't do it." Oh, sweet Jesus. Wrong answer. Wyrdmann brought his arm down, pistol-whipping Jamie with so much force that his brother was flung to the ground, bleeding from a wound on his cheekbone. Nicki whimpered, started to cry and Danny balled his fists, so very close to get himself killed in an attempt to attack Wyrdmann. Only the hint of satisfaction in Jamie's posture kept Danny from leaping at Wyrdmann. He had to trust his brother to handle this the only way he knew to.

"You! Cuff their hands in front of them!", Wyrdmann said, nodding in Erin's direction. Luckily Erin had collected herself and didn't show any fear when she complied and quickly bound their wrists together. She saved Jamie for last, giving him a chance to ready himself, but when she knelt in front of him, he was still wide-eyed and shaking like the rabbit in front of the snake.

"Don't, Erin, please..." Oh man. Danny couldn't bear it, seeing how Wyrdmann enjoyed the drama and the heartbreak he was causing them. Controlled emotions or not, Danny wouldn't allow the criminal to play them against each other.

"Jamie", he said, urging his brother to look at him. Their gazes met, panic warring with experienced calculation. Get your shit together, Danny tried to convey, knowing that Jamie only needed a push in the right direction so his training could kick in. Of course nobody was prepared for situations like that, but Jamie was a police officer and a Reagan. We don't get broken that easily.

"Okay. Yeah, I'm fine", Jamie said as if answering Danny's mental orders. He showed Erin his wrists, making her cringe when she noticed the old purple and blue abrasions. Nevertheless she didn't pause longer than the blink of an eye before she fastened the plastic around them. Jamie then returned the favor, binding Erin's hands together after Wyrdmann had commanded him to do so.

Good boy, play along. We'll get this asshole, just you wait. Danny nodded slowly, again catching Jamie's attention. They understood each other.

"Now get up!"

"Why?", Frank asked. He'd been so quiet Danny had almost forgotten he was there, but now the air of confidence around him made itself known. Danny smiled inwardly when Wyrdmann seemed slightly off balance, not expecting the charisma of the Police Commissioner to influence him.

"Because I say so!" Which was the most childish answer he could have given. Sadly, it was also the one that didn't really provide any information about the plans of the criminal. Somehow Danny doubted that Wyrdmann planned to shoot them, the set up was all wrong for that. But what else did the psychopath have in store? Not wanting to anger the man more than necessary, Danny got to his feet and helped Nicki to follow suit. Surprisingly she leaned close and whispered something in his ear.

"There's a gun in my room. He doesn't know." Whoa. Danny tried his best so conceal his reaction, but Wyrdmann saw them talking and paranoid like he was, immediately suspected a trap. His gun crashed against Danny's chest as he was pushed against the wall, his own arms pinned by Wyrdmann's body.

"What? What did she say to you?"

Next to Danny, Nicki flinched backwards, which in turn made Wyrdmann smirk. Danny replied with an ice-cold smile of his own.

"I just thought about how much fun it will be to arrest you. Or shoot you, whatever is more convenient", Danny quipped, reading himself for another physical attack. Wyrdmann looked him square in the eyes, cocking his head, then let go abruptly and repeated his order: "Get up!".  
They were silent while they were marched through the rooms, Wyrdmann quickly retrieving both the gun Frank had stored in his bedroom and the one in the guest room where Henry had been sleeping. Danny seethed with anger at the reminder how they'd been spied upon, but didn't dare to take any action. Yet. Finally, the criminal ordered them to sit down again on the couch in the living room

"By now you're all wondering what I'm doing here", Wyrdmann announced grandly. "I've worked so hard to set up the perfect circumstances in Mexico, but then you came along", he pointed at Danny, who glared right back, "brought that red haired bitch with you and ruined everything. I couldn't let that happen of course. See, I need answers. I need you to tell me!" His head swung around to Frank, who seemed as baffled by the outburst than any of them. In a comic book, there would have been a huge flock of question marks flying around them.

"Tell you what?"

"The truth about my son! I need you to tell me what really happened! The files were full of lies, you see? They wrote all kind of impossible things in there to confuse me! They hated me, they tried to destroy my family and they succeeded! My wife couldn't see through their web of lies and it killed her! Believing in them killed my wife! But not me! No, I saw it! I knew that the police were trying to cover it all up!", Wyrdmann declared, panting heavily.

Finally things fell into place for Danny. So that's why Wyrdmann had kidnapped Jamie. It didn't quite explain the torture sessions, but in a mind as warped as the criminal's, that might have been necessary to convince the family that he was not joking and was willing to do anything to get what he thought of as the truth. Paranoia and delusions had led the man to believe the New York Police Department had ganged up on him to destroy his life after his son had died. Perhaps Wyrdmann was trying to rid himself of his guilt that way, Danny concluded. The question now was: How could he use his knowledge to free his family?

"They said that Stephen's death was partly my fault, which is is a lie. They said he did drugs, which is another lie. That he didn't like to be at home. Lie. That he and his friends were shoplifting. Lie. Lie. Lie!"

"Mr. Wyrdmann, I can assure you my officers did the best they could. They would never..."

"Lie!" As fast as lightning, Wyrdmann sprang into action, punching Frank in the face. His dad grunted, but didn't react otherwise. Danny fumed silently. He had read the report himself when Erin had sent it to him via cellphone. Danny had rechecked the leads and found them well researched. There had been no mistake, hence there was no truth to tell. Maybe they could make something up? But what?

"The primary suspect is always the family, in this case the father. We had to investigate you and your wife..."

"Don't you dare speak about my wife!", Wyrdmann exploded, advancing on Frank again, who quickly shut up. Danny tried to think of a way he could turn this situation around, but somebody beat him to it.

"People always lie, even my grandpa." Nicki? What was she doing? She had been leaning back, trying to be out of the way, but now she was pushing herself in front of Danny's shoulders that had mostly hidden her frame before. Her eyes were damp and she seemed unsure of herself, biting down on her glossy lips and looking shyly at the criminal. She was the picture of a pretty teenager about to rebel and team up with the criminal. Danny frowned. Nicki was not the revolutionary kind of person and she wasn't usually bullied into anything, why was she acting like this? Well, she had certainly gotten Wyrdmann's attention.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing", Nicki said, letting her head hang low, which of course made Wyrdmann want to chase his prey.

"Tell me."

"I... um, no, it's nothing, really. I shouldn't have said anything", she muttered and if Danny hadn't known any better, he could have sworn that she was teasing him, letting herself be caught. She wanted him to keep asking her, but to what end?

"Now, sweet girl! Even my patience is finite, so start talking or maybe I'll use the gun", he threatened, earning a well-acted frightened expression. Or at least Danny suspected she was acting. Erin didn't seem to think so and neither did Frank, who was shifting uneasily.

"He uses all kinds of lies to get people to do what he wants", Nicki specified. It was like a bubble had burst, suddenly she was talking so fast it was hard to follow her thoughts. "I've seen it. He's a liar with a strategy. It's like price fixing. He simply tells his secretary and she gossips with everyone else and suddenly the whole office tells the same tale and everyone will believe it because they hear the same version from different people!"

"And why does that bother you, little one?", Wyrdmann asked with keen interest. He'd sat down on the small table in front of the telly, seeming utterly transfixed by Nicki. Frank had paled at her accusation, because it was at least partly true. Occasionally, he did tell his secretary to drop a few words into the right ears, but only to help his department!

"Because... because...", Nicki stammered, her cheeks reddening either in embarrassment or in anger. Danny knew that she couldn't stop now, Wyrdmann wouldn't let her off the hook. Nicki seemed to realize the same thing, so she fixed her large eyes on him again, swallowed and continued.

"Because they never catch him at it! And when they do, it's allright, it doesn't matter, he's the Police Commissioner, he's all high and mighty. So he's always absolved simply because he has power? That's so unfair. Lying should not be used like this, it shouldn't be okay!"

Danny blinked, breaking the spell Nicki had thrown on all of them – making them listen without raising her voice. Well, she had been louder at the end, but that had been to make a point. One day Nicki would make a fine lawyer, Danny thought, seeing how smitten Wyrdmann was. At one point he'd even nodded. Clearly he believed every word that came out of Nicki's mouth. And she wasn't even done yet.

"And you know what's worse?"

"What?", Wyrdmann inquired, elbows on his knees, leaning in her direction.

"He's not the only one. Danny keeps telling me lies because he doesn't think I can handle the truth, Linda does it to support Danny and my mom – she's the worst of all! She lies to have it easier, she lies all the time!"

"And Jamie?" Wyrdmann asked as if to test her. Nicki shot a look at Jamie, who was still shell-shocked and not taking part in any of the action.

"He tries to do better", Nicki admitted. Wyrdmann scowled and Nicki changed course elegantly, "Sometimes. But in the end he's no better, not enough backbone to be different. If they tell him to say something, he says it. They are all liars. All of them!"

Smart girl, Danny thought, not feeling insulted but rather proud at his niece's accomplishment. She'd successfully formed an alliance with the criminal by finding common ground with him. The only problem was that she'd painted a huge target on the rest of them in the process.


	17. Chapter 17

**Noon**

While Wyrdmann was shooting questions at Frank, who didn't have any satisfactory answers, Danny was grimly plotting the criminal's downfall. Nicki would have to play a vital role in it, and, judging from Harold Wyrdmann's deranged fixation on his poor brother, so would Jamie. But was he up for it? Although his heart surprisingly screamed that he should trust Jamie, Danny couldn't be sure. The guy hadn't even moved during the last few minutes.

I'm sorry for involving all of you on this suicide mission, Danny thought and then moved forward with his plan by carefully nudging Nikki. "You need to spill the coffee on your shirt", he mumbled without moving his mouth, daring a quick glance in his niece's direction. She nodded immediately and Danny couldn't have been prouder, although he felt a pang of guilt when he thought of the change this ordeal was invoking in his niece.

"Insult me", she whispered back, causing Danny to slightly recoil in confusion. This time, Erin caught on faster than him. Her expression had spoken of insecurity when she'd listened to Danny's order, yet she seemed resolved to help.

"How dare you rat out our family? I raised you better than that!", she hissed, just loud enough for Wyrdmann to hear. The criminal, however, seemed too intent to interrogate Frank further to be bothered by the bickering. Nicki was stammering quietly, but Erin's voice rose as she became more angry.

"Ungrateful brat. You're nothing but a worthless traitor."

"I-I... didn't..."

"Bitch!"

"Stop it! Stop shouting at me!" Nikki had gotten up in an abrupt motion, which made Harold divert his attention towards the fight. He saw the tears in the girl's eyes while also taking in the other family member's guarded expressions and Danny knew he had swallowed the hook, line and sinker. Perhaps Erin hadn't been quite in character, but who cared? Certainly not Wyrdmann. Meanwhile, Nicki licked her dry lips and tried a shaky smile at the criminal.

"M-May I?" She pointed at the coffee pot and the colorful mugs in front of it. Gracious to his newly found ally, Wyrdmann nodded.

I hate this, Danny thought and kicked out at the girl just as she was picking up the cup. The hot beverage drenched her reddish top and dark jeans, also eliciting a small scream from Nikki. Oh, be careful there, young one. Don't overdo it, Danny mentally warned her. He quickly had to cover his own bases, though, because Wyrdmann's wrath turned on him.

"Don't try anything like that again. You won't like the result!", he threatened and pushed the gun at Danny, then reconsidered and targeted Jamie with an evil wink at the big brother. "If you misbehave, I'll hurt him." Out of the corner of his eye, Danny saw Jamie flinch in fear and in that moment, he decided that whatever else happened, he would kill Harold Wyrdmann tonight.

* * *

Jamie, on the other hand, tried his best to stay invisible and out of Wyrdmann's way. He couldn't stop thinking about that man's hand on his naked flesh and about Nikki's shout. His family had seen it. Now his worst nightmare had come true. How was he supposed to go on, knowing that his family had watched... it. Nikki had tried to be kind, no doubt – but was she was telling the truth, however improbable it seemed?

Enough with the whining. Quit it! He'd been so busy feeling sorry for himself that he'd missed minutes of what was happening. Giving himself a mental slap, Jamie tried to ban the thoughts of the torture sessions from his mind and focus on the proceedings.

"I... um, I have to go. Go change. This...", Nikki was crying, apparently distraught from previous the fight with her mother. Harold seemed completely charmed whereas Jamie suddenly had his doubts about Nikki's emotional plea. Something about her posture... the quivering lip, the huge eyes, hands clenching and unclenching... no. He hadn't been her favorite Uncle for years without getting to know her intimately. Nikki was playacting, meaning his family had a plan. Which was good, because Jamie didn't know how much longer he could take this.

"You can't go upstairs alone, little one. You might be tempted to do something stupid", Harold said soothingly and waved his gun around. Nikki didn't seem daunted by the weapon, instead batting her eyelashes at him and replying that perhaps he could accompany her.

"No, that would involve leaving the rest of the family... unsupervised."

"B-but! But I can't stay like this", Nikki pleaded and suddenly Jamie knew in which direction she was pushing Harold. Upstairs. Moreover, the clever manipulation seemed to be working, because Wyrdmann commanded them all to get up and form a line, then march up the stairs towards Nikki's room. And with every step, the tension seemed to increase as a tingling energy began to fill the air. Jamie stopped short as soon as they reached the hallway on the first floor, partly because Wyrdmann signaled for them to halt, partly because Danny was giving him that look. The one he'd seen countless times, the one that meant he was supposed to act. Nicki too seemed to be stalling, slowly making her way over to the closet and fidgeting with the lock before opening it. For an instance, Jamie didn't have a clue what was expected of him, then he caught Danny staring pointedly at Wyrdmann.

Immediately he put two and two together: they want me to be a distraction. Which was smart, the rational part of his brain argued, but which also made his heart stop for a moment as a jolt of panic raced through him. Being the bait would put him into the most uncomfortable position, because all he could think of was the one burning question occupying his mind. When he couldn't come up with anything else and the seconds stretched into eternity, Jamie suddenly decided to damn it all to hell. He would not under any circumstances disappoint the trust his big brother had placed in him. God knew he'd worked hard to receive it in the first place. So without thinking, he took half a step forward, forced a smirk on his face and engaged Harold in a friendly conversation.

"Well, Harold. Now that we've got time to chat - did you or didn't you? Rape me, I mean." His voice was shaking during the last part, but he didn't retreat when Wyrdmann's slimy eyes landed on his body although the darkness in the man's eyes made him shudder all over. Breathe. Just breathe, he told himself and fixed his stare on his captor.

"Sweet Jamison, and such bravery. Our time together sure seems to mean a lot to you."

Jamie clicked his tongue and tried hard not to look at any of his family member's astonished faces. "Yeah, well, from the looks of you, you don't care much about personal hygiene and I wouldn't want to be diseased, you know?" He didn't even feel scared at this point. It was like he was reading a script from a movie. It was just a role he was playing, and knowing what would come next surely helped a little. It still hurt though, when Wyrdmann pistol-whipped him again and sent him sprawling on the floor. To Jamie it nevertheless felt like a victory, because with Wyrdmann's seething frame standing over him, nobody paid any attention to Nikki. Whatever the plan was, Jamie hoped they'd get on with it. A vicious kick to the stomach turned him over so he was lying on his back.

"I... didn't mean to... insult your pride", he ground out, then seemed to reconsider and smiled just as meanly as his kidnapper. "Actually, I did. And I'm not sorry." Harold laughed and bent down to press the metal of the gun into Jamie's cheek. For a moment, Jamie froze and closed his eyes in defeat, then he opened them again and they went wide. Nikki was standing behind the criminal, feet apart and arms outstretched. She was pointing a gun at Harold Wyrdmann, who still hadn't noticed anything, too fixated on his prey.

Jamie reacted before Wyrdmann got a chance to turn around. Pushing with both feet, he sent the criminal stumbling towards the stairs and thereby put himself out of the line of fire. "Shoot!"

Nikki didn't react to the command, instead staring like she was hypnotized. A part of Jamie was glad that his niece couldn't do it. He saw it in her eyes. Unfortunately, so did Wyrdmann, who was picking himself up off the floor with an evil grin on his face. Danny and the rest of the family watched the drama unfold with horrified expressions, too far away to interact. Now Wyrdmann was standing again and his weapon was trained on the girl. "I believe I told you what would happen if you misbehaved", he drawled. Jamie could see the muscles in his arm tense and knew what was about to happen. He'd shoot Nikki.

"No!" Jamie lunged for the criminal and grabbed his weapon just as a shot was let loose. Plaster rained down on them when the bullet embedded itself into the ceiling while the desperate struggle continued. Jamie knew that Wyrdmann was stronger than him, but he wouldn't release his grip on the gun. Suddenly the criminal managed to clip him with his elbow. Dazed, Jamie fell and Wyrdmann straightened himself. The winning smile got stuck in his throat, though, when another body collided with his. Frank had used the time to inch closer and then had then thrown himself forcefully at the man. Together they tumbled down the stairs in a mess of arms and legs. The gun was lost somewhere along the way.

"Dad! Are you okay?", Jamie and Danny shouted in unison. The man in question slowly rolled away from the criminal, groaning but tiredly holding his hands up. "I'm fine, boys." Harold was bleeding from a wound on his forehead, just getting his bearings again. He moved into Frank's direction, but Danny's firm order stopped him in his tracks.

"Don't make a move or I'll shoot you", he growled. Jamie noticed how his brother was struggling not to pull the trigger of the gun Nikki had given to him, so he walked over and leaned in close. "He's not even worth the effort."

"Yeah, I know, kid."

"Do you?", Jamie asked sharply. His brother seemed to snap out of it and quickly glanced at him. Then he nodded, emotions crossing his face and disappearing behind the professional mask as suddenly as they'd come. Jamie recognized some of them as vengefullness, rage and in the end, understanding and a sense of clarity. At that moment he knew that Danny was going to be okay. He let his big brother take care of things and moved to sit down against the wall. Exhaustion didn't even begin to cover it.

At some point, Erin cut him free and Linda called the police. They took Harold Wyrdmann away. The ambulance arrived and the paramedics checked them out. Nikki and the other women were fine, Danny was a little bruised and Frank had dislocated his right shoulder during his fall down the stairs. They wanted to examine him, too, but Jamie insisted that he was fine. Only after Danny told him to stop being a diva, he let the men do their work.

"You're experiencing a light case of shock, probably due to a mild concussion. Other than that, you're fine", the paramedic declared and put a band-aid over the abrasions on his cheek after cleaning them out. It stung, but Jamie hardly cared. When they were done, he wordlessly shuffled into bed.

His Dad woke him two hours later. "Son?"

"Yeah?" Drowsily, Jamie opened his eyes, realizing that he'd slept peacefully for the first time in ages. He blinked and saw the love shining out of in Frank's eyes.

"Whassup?", Jamie mumbled, burying his head in his pillow like he'd done when he was ten years old. His Dad chuckled. "Nothing. Go back to sleep. I'll wake you again in a few hours. The doctor said we had to, because of your concussion..." Jamie was already half-asleep before Frank even finished. He felt his dad's hand smooth back the hair on his head and smiled. It felt like home.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N** : This is it! The final chapter! It has been an amazing journey and a pleasure. :)

Thanks for reading, guys! If you liked the story, please leave some feedback at the bottom.

* * *

 **December 9** **th** **\- Epilogue**

Laughter echoed through the house, followed by light footsteps in the hallway. "Must be Erin and Nicki", Linda said and nodded in greeting when the two of them entered the kitchen. Danny was leaning against the counter and Jamie occupied the doorway. Altogether, the room seemed pretty crowded, Frank thought and refrained from joining them. He was satisfied just listening to the easy banter.

"I love having you all here, but..."

"Get out of her way, she's cooking", Danny completed his wife's sentence and stepped back to let her through. Linda giggled and placed a quick kiss on his lips while Jamie grinned and sat down next to Frank with Erin and her daughter. Dinner was almost ready anyways. The table was already loaded with baked potatoes, butter, gravy, beans, salad, dressing and white bread. Linda added huge, soft pink slices of roast to the dishes and then they were ready.

After a prayer of thanks, they all dug in. Sean and Jack, sitting at the end of the table, were soon immersed into a debate about the best superhero powers. The adults, however, stayed unusually quiet until Danny interrupted the sporadic small-talk.

"Although I'm very grateful to be back home and alive and all that, I just can't figure out how you did it. Even you can't march into a stronghold of the mob and demand that they release us, can you?" Frank chewed thoughtfully, put his fork down and folded his hands in front of his chest before he replied. "No. I can't."

"Then how?", Jamie joined in. He was obviously just as curious as his brother - and probably the rest of the family. All eyes had turned to Frank, who sighed in anticipation.

"I negotiated. There were certain things Mr. Aguirre wanted and I made sure he got them."

"Dad!" That was Erin, clearly furious, "That's illegal! They're criminals and you made a deal with them!"

"What exactly did you do?", Henry asked a lot more calmly. Frank shrugged. "Arranged a few visitation rights in jail. Sped up a few bureaucratic processes. None of it will be traced back to me and if it is, I have people to guard my back. I told them what had happened and they were willing to help nonetheless."

"Edgar?", Henry asked and Frank nodded. "Amongst others." He was looking accross the table and found a wild mix of expressios. Linda was smiling at him and Henry understood, but his children were obviously not happy with his admission. Well, he had anticipated the response.

"You're the one who always told us how important integrity is. You're the PC, goddammit!", Danny interjected. At the sound of their father's curse, Jack and Sean looked up from their debate. "No swearwords at dinner", Sean said and waggled his eyebrows. "That's your rule, Dad."

"Sorry, Sean."

"It's okay. You saved Uncle Jamie, so you get a free pass. But only this once."

"Thank you, Sean", Danny said drily, causing everybody else to hide their laughter behind napkins and whatever else was available. Henry coughed violently into his water. When he was finally able to breathe normally again, the two boys had already restarted their discussion.

"Couldn't you have found another way?", Erin quietly asked her father. And as usual, Frank admired his daughter's distinct sense of right and wrong. Not everybody would have interrogated him about the ethic consequences of his choice. Although he didn't like being questioned in general, he was not ashamed of his actions and didn't mind justifying himself in front of his children.

"There wasn't time to set an elaborate plan into motion. Even with all the help and the shortcuts I took it was a close call."

"Yeah, that's right. I still don't think you should have done it the way you did, though", Jamie said, "It was too risky. I can think of a dozen ways that bargain you struck could have gone sideways."

"Only a dozen?", Danny teased. The corners of Frank's mouth curled up, a movement nearly too small to notice. For a moment, he considered his boys seriously, then he told them the truth. "You are my sons and I love you. There isn't anything that would have been too risky or illegal. And if I lose my job, so be it. My family is more important than any job I could ever occupy."

There was silence after that statement while they mulled it over. Again it was Danny who spoke first.

"What about Arabella? Do you think she's one of the bad guys?"

"She kidnapped you. Of course she is", Linda snapped and put her arm around Danny protectively. Her expression clearly said that she meant it, just daring the others to argue. Danny chuckled and kissed her, murmuring something into her ear that made her blush.

"Well, she did save Jamie's life. Kind of", Erin argued, although she didn't sound convinced. To their surprise, Jamie nodded and then explained about Arabella's schemes to guide Danny to Wyrdmann's lair. Frank didn't know whether he believed all of it. At least some gaps are filled now, he thought and continued to listen attentively.

"In the end, she helped us escape. And she got shot. Twice", Danny added, which for some reason made Jamie laugh. The others seemed a little confused, but Frank let it go. As long as his sons were happy, he didn't mind their cryptic jokes.

"I guess she isn't as bad a person as I thought", Linda admitted.

"She's still a criminal, no changing that", Henry told her. "Can you pass me the roast, please?"

"Sure."

After a while, Jamie asked whether Danny had heard back from Arabella at all, which he denied. Frank cleared his throat, not feeling entirely pleased about breaking the news. "They found the body of a woman close to the ruins of Wyrdmann's house in Mexico. She hasn't been identified yet, but the Detective at the scene said she had flaming red hair."

"So she's dead? Why?", Jamie wanted to know, incredulous.

"We didn't know where her loyalties were lying", Danny said flatly, "I guess the mob wondered about the same thing."

"That's insane...", Jamie mumbled. Frank could see that his youngest felt sorry for the woman. Angry, too, for the injustice that had been done to her. He would have been a great lawyer. But, Frank had to admit to himself, he was a great police officer as well.

The rest of the meal was spent in companionable silence. It was only after they had cleared away the food that Frank noticed how quiet Nicki had been. Hence, he sat down next to her on the couch in the living room while the other family members crowded into the kitchen again.

"Are you alright?" Her round, brown eyes found his and she shook her head mutely, moving closer to his side. Reflexively, Frank hugged her lightly. "Talk to me."

"I... well, it's just that I trained for it. Henry, Erin and I went to the shooting range. I was good at it." And Frank understood. She didn't need to spell it out for him, he knew why she was upset.

"You're feeling guilty because you didn't shoot Harold Wyrdmann", he stated with affection, "but there is no reason to feel that way. In fact, I would worry had you shot him. Taking a life... that's not a good thing. It never is, no matter the circumstances. I'm glad you didn't have to shoot him and so are Erin, Danny and Jamie."

"Are you sure, Granddad?"

"Yes, Nicki, I'm sure." He had to take a deep breath in order to answer evenly. Emotion clouded his thoughts. She was a teenager, nothing but a teenager - meant to worry about teachers and lipstick and movies and boys. Not about life-changing things like this. Frank was very glad that she had not pulled the trigger on Wyrdmann, for her sake, because Nicki was sensitive and such actions would have eaten her up from the inside.

"And what happens now?" Nicki brought him back to reality. Her frame had relaxed slightly since the first part of their conversation, which Frank took as a good omen.

"What do you mean?", he inquired a little less worriedly.

"To Wyrdmann. I mean, will he be sent to jail?"

"Yes. First there will be a trial, of course, but there is video evidence and with all our witness testimonies, there will be no leeway. He'll be spending the rest of his life in jail", Frank reassured her. Again some muscles loosened and the girl almost seemed to be at ease.

"You were right, by the way", Nicki suddenly said, "About time mending things. Jamie is already much better."

They watched him for a few minutes, joking with his brother and pinching parts of the dessert when he thought nobody would notice. Frank huffed when Linda caught him at it and pretended to hit him with a wooden spoon.

"They're happy. We're happy. And Wyrdmann is in jail", Nicki stated with a sense of finality. "I think we're all gonna be okay."

 **The End**


End file.
